


Through The Smoke

by AJ_Clemmentz



Category: Original Work
Genre: American Revolution, Bisexual, Bisexual Character, Crossdressing, Drag, F/F, Female Protagonist, GLBTQ, Ghosts, Haunting, Historical Romance, Horror, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian, Lesbian Character, Mental Illness, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, PTSD, Paranormal, WLW Romance, fake identity, glbt, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Clemmentz/pseuds/AJ_Clemmentz
Summary: During the American Revolution, a young woman gets mistaken for a man. Taking on this identity leads her down a road that includes a blue uniform and a musket and secret keeping. During her time as a rebel soldier, she begins to fall in love with her only friends girlfriend, all while being stalked by a ghost whose hauntings become increasingly  violent as the war, political and emotional, break her down.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first draft. I am posting for several reasons: constructive feedback and to get some cheerleadering. This is the first 50k words, may become 200k.

She wasn’t sure how far she’d ridden in distance, but she knew it’d been several hours. At one point, she thought she may have fallen asleep on the back of her beloved Marco. If she had and for how long, she’d never truly be sure, but as she rode into a new town that late morning, all she was certain of was just how much her thighs ached.   
The entire morning she’d been kicking herself for riding Marco so hard at the beginning of the night, but she had been running for her life. In her haste, she’d found a few scraps of mens clothing in the barn and figured they’d be more appropriate than a night dress no matter how poorly they fit. They were tattered, now, trousers ripped and tied to fit her tiny frame better and the shirt noticeably baggy. She must have been a sight trotting into town, but few seemed to pay her any mind. With a deep exhale, she prepared to swallow her paranoia and adjusted her hat to hide her face. From the distance she was from town, she could see it’s small Main Street buzzing with activity. Like bees in a hive, they let out a gentle hum and filled her with anxiety. Her fingers had gone a deep, pale, white, tangled in Marcos reins as she urged him on. They were both wanting for food and water and she’d make sure he’d gotten his first.   
Just a bit further, she thought, just a bit further and we can both rest.  
Dirt had been drying her tongue out the past few miles and she knew poor Marco wasn’t any better off. It’d been a very long night for the two of them.   
As she finally entered the city, it’d gotten louder. The sound of horses and their carriages, the excited voices of the locals; if she couldn’t hear, the noise could have been felt. It moved the air and shook the ground. She distracted herself by examining the soil beneath Marcos hooves and pulled herself closer with his reins. There must be a carriage house close.   
She freed one hand from the reins to clutch it to her chest as she began to breathe more deliberately and fight the walls the hive began to create in her mind.   
Carriage house. She focused. You’re both just tired and need a rest.  
Her face froze like stone as she raised her eyes up to survey the road ahead. The signs on the street blurred into each other from her fatigue a bit and she had to get closer than she’d like to see the names clearly.   
“You there, boy.”   
The shout became more insistent and she felt a hand touch her leg.   
“My good man. Would you like to fight for freedom?”  
“Oh, I’m not—“  
“They’ll feed you, clothe you, and teach you how to fight.” The old man explained at her feet explained. “All you need to do is show up.” Cautiously, she took his flyer.  
“I’ll consider it.” She said. “Although—“  
“Yes?”  
“Don’t I appear a bit - short for a soldier to you?”  
“We take all kinds, sir” he explained with a smile and moved on to a man coming out of a local shop.   
With a laugh, she glanced down at the paper. Groggy and aching for a bed,she was certain it wouldn’t be as funny as she hadn’t gone so long without rest, but she continued to laugh as she rode down the street.   
The trousers barely fit. They were tied rather tight around her waist and the shirt was mostly tucked in, it had draped down between her hip and knees, brushing her thighs. She must have been an awkward site atop her horse in these oversized clothes. As she continued down the street, she wondered if he was the only one to believe he was seeing a young man. It wasn’t in her nature to be so bold, but she met some of the eyes of the townspeople and gave a slight nod and tip of the hat. To her surprise, at least a few girls blushed and many gentlemen returned the greeting.   
Smiling to herself, the welcoming sign of the carriage house pulled her in , finally, and she guided the exhausted and overworked Marco to a lovely shaded stall. Climbing down,she took it upon herself to gather him some hay.  
“Sir,” she glanced up to meet the eyes of a young man, about her age. “We can take care of all that.” He smiled. “It’s really not a problem.” She hesitated for a moment before taking a step back and nodding. Nervously, she opened her mouth, a bit dry from nerves and want of water herself, and tried to make her voice as deep as possible.  
“His names Marco. Thank you.” She said. “Now, can you direct me to an inn, my boy?” The young man nodded and pointed down the road.  
“It’s just at the end of the street. Not far at all.” She thanked him, gave Marco a goodbye brush, and made her way down the street toward the bed she’d so longed for since she started out hours ago.   
Making her way up the street, she decided to keep her head up; eyes fixed on the sign, but surveying the town around her in her peripheral vision. They were talking. Some about her. Those who appeared to be talking about her either seemed confused or taken with her. Who would have thought a simple pair of trousers would bring such mixed reactions. Normally, eyes on her would give her a deep discomfort in her gut; that physical aching threat that the most recent meal she’d consumed may find itself at her feet. This was different, though. Even the negative attention gave her a thrill; she wanted to revel in it.   
Her back cracked a bit as she straightened it and she could feel every crease in her face as her lips raised into a smile and the gentle heat of a slight blush warmed her cheek. Maybe she should be ashamed. Perhaps this was too much pressure. There was humor in this, she acknowledged, perhaps she’d just hold on to it while she rested that day. By the morning, she’d be gone and it’d be no matter. Just for now, she’d be a small man.  
The smell of the tavern hit her nose before she saw the sign clearly;fatigue was beginning to overcome her. Unsteadily, she pulled herself up onto the porch and wandered toward the door, feet feeling of lead, and made her way inside.  
“Morning, sir.” A young man, about her age greeted her. She darted her eyes away a moment before remembering she was a tiny man today. “How can I help you?”   
“I need a room, please.” She kept her expression stony as she removed her hat.  
“Very well. May I have your name?”  
“My name?”  
“Yes, sir.” She hesitated, throat dry from nerves, she cleared her throat.  
“Degory Mauz.” The young man wrote the name and offered his hand.   
“Joseph Helm.” Cautiously, she took his wrist and gave a brisk shake. “Follow me to your room, you look tired.”  
“I am, sir.”   
“I’ll make sure you have water in your basin, you appear to have had a rough night.” Degory paused on the stairs and ran her finger over her split lip.   
“Well,” she said, with a deep a voice as she could. “Some men tried to steal away with my horse and I couldn’t let that happen.”   
“Of course not, sir. I’ll warn the others that their are rascals out there on the road if you’ll tell me where you came from.”  
“West.” She thought fast. “I’ve come in from the Ohio country.”  
“I see,” Joseph chuckled. “Why here?”   
“It’s the first city I came to this morning.” With that, Joseph opened the door to reveal the small room. It had a desk, chair, dresser, but, most of all, a bed with clean linens. “I’m very grateful to you, sir.”  
“Of course,” Joseph followed her in and fetched the pitcher. “Won’t be a moment, sir.”   
Degory nodded and watched him leave before discarding her jacket and placing the hat on the dresser. He’d knock before he came back in, she knew, and she’d fetch the cloak again.   
Other than the bed before her, she longed for the warm soap and water he would bring. It refresh her for sure. She just hoped she’d have enough rest before the tavern got rowdy in the evening. Maybe she’d steal away in the night, never to be seen in this town again. It was definitely an option. Degory couldn’t say if she’d left enough distance between who she was now and who she had once been. A new name may not keep her safe for long, especially if she continued to use the name she’d chosen. She wasn’t sure how long she sat in her fatigued contemplation, but Joseph’s knock on the door roused here.  
“One moment.” Keeping her voice deep, she grabbed the jacket and pulled it back on. “Thank you, Joseph.” As she accepted the full pitcher and soap, she offered a small smile and nod in return. Before turning on his heels and leaving, Joseph gave a slight bow.   
The click of the lock sent relief through her, the first she’d felt in probably days, she found it hard to keep tears from pouring in unison with the water from the pitcher into the basin. It was warm and welcoming. First, she cleaned her face. It wasn’t as bad as she thought. Her eye wasn’t even bruised, thank goodness. After making sure the windows were closed and she was out of view, she gently removed the rest of the clothing. Each piece still smelled like Marcos barn back home. Well, where she once called home.  
“Never again.” She whispered to herself, wiping off her bruised arm. Gingerly, she touched the perfect fingerprints imprinted there. “Never again.” The tears came harder this time. Perhaps she was in mourning for him or her past life, or maybe she was still reeling from the events that sent her fleeing into the woods, either way, she need to wash and to rest. She was certain all would be well when she woke up.

She didn’t mind the revelry downstairs rousing her. She’d slept long enough and wanted for the necessary anyway. Groggily, she sat up, stretching her back and glancing around the darkened room. At first, she thought it was the jacket, left laid across the desk chair, but she soon heard it raspy breath.   
“Hello?” She whispered, shakily.  
“You left me.”  
“I’m sorry?”  
“You left me, you ungrateful whore.” Slowly, in the dark, the figure on the chair turned to her. “You left me.” The voice growled. “Do you see what you did.” 

She tried to scream but let out nothing but a violent cough. Her lungs burned as a thick smoke filled them and had already begun aching in her chest. It tasted of burnt wood and flesh. Gasping and choking, she fumbled through the dark for her cloak.   
The smoke was engulfing her, dragging her to the ground. She could feel her nails gathering bits of the floor; dirt and wood, as she clawed her way towards the door. She needed air.   
Desperately, she used her nails to pull her up, even with the knob to turn it. The heat stunned her. It was like trying to grab a hot coal. With a gasp, she pulled back, still choking and beginning to panic, and used the coat to shield her hand to turn the door knob.  
As she fell into the hallway, still fighting for air, all the smoke disappeared, as if it were never there. Unsteadily, as her breath became normal again, she used the wall to pull herself up and cautiously returned to her room.   
Degory collapses into tears onto the bed, folded into herself, shaking. She wasn’t sure how long it took her breath to return to normal, but when it did, she finally had the wherewithal to realize she needed the facilities.   
The water in the basin wasn’t warm anymore, but perhaps she needed the chill of cool water to return the proper color to her face. Even in the dark, she could see a bit of puffiness and she knew that her skin had to have pinkened. She was relieved she’d stopped shaking and crying but dreaded heading out into the darkness to relieve herself.  
For a moment, Degory contemplated navigated the narrow hall and stairwell without a candle, but decided that was too dangerous. Instead, she pulled on her trousers and retrieved the candle and it’s holder from the desk. Turning down into the stairwell, she realized the click of her shoes wasn’t the only sound in the building. The gentle light from a fire kissed the door of the stairs, illuminating the entrance into the tavern part of the building. It’s warmth was welcoming, when she finally stepped into it, though the smell of it sent a chill down her spine that cut right through the soothing heat.   
“I’m afraid you’re a bit late for super and far too early for breakfast.” The old mans voice shook a bit as he spoke from his spot by the fire.   
“I’m afraid I haven’t much of an appetite.” Not a complete lie, if food were available, she would have eaten. The lack of hunger pangs meant nothing, after so long, she was simply numb to the ache in her famished belly, she knew. The man paused his whittling and met her eyes and she realized she’d been quite too long. “Can you direct me to the necessary, sir”   
Degory could hear the old, feeble mans fingers click a bit as he pointed to the back door. With a soft, awkward nod, she thanked him and made her way to the door.   
“I’d be careful.”  
“Excuse me?” She paused, unsure of what he’d said.  
“I said I’d be careful.” The man returned to his fore lit whiddling. “I heard dogs out there a bit ago. Probably wolves. I’d keep that light high, eh?” She pretended not to be startled by his creepy cackle as she nodded.  
“Thank you, kindly.” Before opening the door, she turned up her collar to brace herself against the nights chill and headed out into the darkness.   
It wasn’t far off, the modest privy, just a small shed hidden beyond a tree, about fifty feet off from the tavern. The stench was overwhelming, but her need was far too fierce to be deterred. Despite how awful the dank bog was, she welcomed it willingly, stopping only once to curse before slamming the door and practically collapsing on the seat.   
“Shite.” She quietly exclaimed, allowing her body to let go.  
It was so joyous that she nearly didn’t hear the footsteps outside until the sound of a twig breaking brought her away from her business. Holding her breath, she paused to listen more to the gentle rustling outside, though, for a moment it stopped. She allowed herself to finish, quickly and hoped up and gingerly opened the door.   
It was almost more frightening to see no one in the dark or a single sign of life beyond the faint chirping of crickets in the dark. The dim light of the candle gave little comfort nor did the thundering of her heart in her head as she pressed forward towards the door.   
“Beg pardon.” The voice nearly made her jump out of her skin. “Sorry,... uh… sir?”  
“Hello.” She caught her breath. The man had light curly hair that framed his face and, in the candlelight, his green eyes looked like emeralds.  
“I was just looking for the privy.”  
“Well, it’s free now.”  
“I see that.” He smiled. “I’m Silas.”  
“My names Degory.” She offered her wrist and he accepted.   
“Good to meet you.” He smiled. “Perhaps I’ll see at breakfast in a few hours.”  
“Perhaps.” She watched the tall, light featured man disappear into the darkness before she made her way back to the building.   
Even in the short time she’d been awake, Degory felt as though she’d had a very long night. Between the smoke that threatened to devore her, the crying jag, and the trip to the outhouse in the dark, she decided she’d try to rest more. At least until breakfast.   
“I see you made it back.” The old man acknowledged her as she came back through the door.  
“Indeed, I have.” She rose the candle a bit high. “Im afraid I never introduced myself, sir. My name is Degory.” The old man didn’t look up from his wooden project.   
“Ajax.”  
“Your name is Ajax, sir.” He nodded.  
“Well, my good man, may I inquire as to what hour breakfast is served?”  
“Joe’ll be here in about three hours, you can break your fast then.”   
“Thank you.” She gave a final nod before climbing the stairs. As she reached the top,she could still faintly smell smoke, though there was none to be seen.   
“It was just a nightmare.” She whispered to herself, returning to the room, knowing full well she’d get no more sleep tonight. Glancing out the window, to the moon, she realized just how long she’d slept; an entire day gone and dreamed away. She may have slept longer if it weren’t for the nightmare that had violently roused her from her slumber.   
Collapsing on the bed, she prepared herself to stare, listlessly at the ceiling for the next few hours, the promise of food bubbling up pangs in her stomach from the expanded fast she’d been on and the scent of the magical smoke still lingering in the air.  
When the sunlight finally did reach through between the curtains and the ghost that moonlight had brought had seemed to have gone to rest, she figured it’d be safe to plant her feet back on the floor. With a sigh, she redressed and used the left over cold water to clean herself again. Degory wasn’t certain why so many people believed her a small man and she wondered if she shouldn’t have run off with Marco, but for right now, food was paramount.  
A low growl cried out of her stomach as she reached the bottom of the stairs and into the main tavern.  
“Degory!” A cheery voice greeted her. “Come, sir with me. Joe will bring you some porridge and eggs.”   
Nervously, she approached Silas and took her place across from him.   
“Well, Mr. Mauz! I trust you slept well.” Joseph smiled, placing some food before Silas.   
“Very well, thank you, sir.”   
“Glad to hear it.” He smiled. “Won’t be a moment and I’ll have you set as well.”  
“Thank you, sir.” She repeated, deeply as she good with her voice.  
“So, you never got a chance to properly meet earlier.” Silas smiled, shoveling some mash into his mouth. “What brings you here?”   
“Well,” she hesitated. “I … uh…. seek employment.”   
“Employment?”  
“Yes.” Clearing, her throat, she turned her eyes away from his food. “There weren’t many opportunities back home for me.”  
“And where is home?” Her eyes flitted to the floor and back again. “It’s fine, I understand.” He nodded, setting his spoon aside and grabbing an egg. “I don’t really want to talk about where I’m from either.”  
“So, you’re ….”  
“Running away as well? Yes.” Carefully and gently, he peeled at the egg shell. “I can’t say I’d like to share why either.” Satisfied it was properly skinned, he leaned back and took a large bite. “However, if you are looking for a job, you’re welcome to come with me.”  
“With you?”   
“Yes, I’m to work on the docks here. ” At that moment, Joseph appeared with a small platter that matched the one before Silas. It took great effort for Degory to not pull the bowl to her face and directly shovel the porridge into her face. Pacing herself, she thanked Joseph and carefully brought the first spoonful to her mouth.  
“So, the docks brought you here?”   
“Well, there wasn’t much happening back where I’m from either.” She ignored him talking through his mouth full of food. “There were a lot of men that chose not to go to war looking for proper work to keep them far from the fighting. So, it made more sense to travel somewhere where there were more jobs to be had.”  
“And, if I may, why haven’t you joined the army?” He didn’t speak for a moment, seeming to consider his response.   
“I’m still considering it, but I’m hoping they’re better off without me.”  
“I see.”  
“What about you?” Degory scoffed and swallowed the porridge in her mouth.  
“I’m not sure they’d have much use for a man of my…. stature.” Without looking up, she began working on one of her own eggs, though, with a bit less care than Silas had his own.  
“Oh, come now.” He leaned over and smacked her shoulder. “They enlist boys barely your height, I’m sure they would find a place for you in the ranks.”  
“I thank you for your vote of confidence, sir, but I fear that you have too much faith in my abilities.”  
“Or you have to little in your own.” His assertion shocked her.  
“Sir, I’m afraid I’m not completely sure what you’re getting at.”  
“What are you? About five feet?” She nodded. “While you are at a disadvantage, I’m certain there could be many uses for you… how many soldier are your size? How easy would it be for a small man to get into a small space a man like me could not? I’m positive you’re size gives you a particular set of skills.”  
“Interesting, sir.” The welcoming oatmeal was beginning to soothe her stomach and ebb the cold she hadn’t realized she’d been feeling. “I’ll definitely take your counsel to heart.”   
“I’ve had no one ever say that to me, sir.” He laughed. “I do think that’s the highest compliment I’ve ever been paid.”  
“Honestly, it has rarely occurred to me that my size could be an asset. Most men make their living with their strength and size, I fear between my build, having many sisters, and only one brother who outgrew me, it was never treated as anything but a curse.”  
“That’s too bad.” Silas shook his head. “Everyone has something to give and a man deserves respect for what he can do and what he has to offer, not cast aside for what he can not. That’s why we are fighting those blasted red coats.” He whispered, studying her face.  
“Indeed.” Her voice equally quite.   
“Good. I took you for a rebel the moment I saw you.”  
“Oh, did you?” The bitterness of the coffee nearly choked her, but she refused to show signs of distaste. If they thought her a gentleman, she’d be a gentleman and, in her experience, gentlemen drank coffee. “Wishful thinking perhaps. I’m not passionately dedicated to either side, but I must say, I do favor our independence to that of English subordinates, for sure.”   
“My brother spoke as you do once… before they brought a red coat to his home.” Silas finished the last of his porridge, set the bowl aside. “The red coat decided he fancied his daughter. My poor niece was nearly raped by that bastard when she spurned his advances.”  
“I’m very sorry.”  
“Not as sorry as my brother and I made him.” The egg in her hand froze mid air as she absorbed what he said.  
“Sounds like he got what he deserved.” She said before finishing the egg.  
“I promise you, he did.” The silence gave her time to consider and decide what to say next, she opted to return to a latter subject.  
“I believe you were telling me about employment at the docks?”  
“Oh, yes.” His tall frame seemed to relax again and he sat back in his chair. “The docks aren’t very far off from here. You’re more than welcome to come with”  
“Are you in a hurry?”  
“No, it’s still very early. We have plenty of time. In fact, if you haven’t a change of clothes, I may have something that would fit you better.”  
“Truly?”  
“Yes, I may.”   
“How?” She asked, cautiously, but Silas only smiled.   
“Finish your breakfast.” He said, raiding his coffee to his lips. “I’ll explain when we get upstairs.”

Silently, she followed Silas up the stairs, belly finally full and glad to be tended to, and she finally felt herself again… although… she wasn’t herself.   
“So, Degory,” Silas began, opening his one room door and leading her in, “I hope you won’t be bothered, but my sister was about your size and she had a pair of trousers and a mans shirt made because it was easier to ride her horse in trousers.”  
“I see.” She couldn’t help but chuckle.   
“You’re not offended?”  
“Of course not, sir.” She sighed. “I found out rather young that I fit my sisters clothes better than my brothers. So, I see no issue at all.”  
“Glad to hear that.” He bent down to open a small trunk he’d set at the foot of his bed. “She gave these to me to sell when I told her I was leaving. She’d made a new pair and had some babies since then, so they no longer fit her. If they fit you, though, its much better than that shirt you have on.”  
“It is a bit big, isn’t it?” She pulled at the fabric underneath the coat.   
“I wasn’t going to say anything, it just didn’t seem to match.” He continued. “Your trousers and jacket are a fine fabric, but that shirt, well, “ he paused, “You’ll forgive me, sir, but it looks more like the blouse of a farmer than a city gentleman.” She nodded.  
“I fear you read that right.” Graciously, she accepted the shirts and the extra pair of trousers from him. “How much would you like?”  
“No, no.” He placed his hand her wrist that was reaching for the purse at her hip. “I want you to have them. I have other things I can sell.”   
“Are you sure, I mean, I simply don’t think its right to take something this fine and not…”  
“Really, sir.” He assured her, stepping away to close the chest. “I would consider it an insult for a friend to give me money in exchange for a gift.”   
“Very well, sir.” She stood a little taller, a bit taken a back by the new title of ‘friend’ he’d bestowed upon her. “Well, perhaps, as thanks, you’d allow a friend to treat you to a pint soon.”  
“I’d like that, sir.”  
“Very well, then.” Another sigh and turned to the door. “I’ll just change and we can head off. Won’t be a moment.”  
Once in the hall, the tingle of having a new friend truly hit her and she had to suppress the feminine giggle brewing her chest as she walked across the hall to her own lodgings. Her smile faded, though, as she turned the knob and smelled the smoke again. There was a slight heat to the knob, though not the flaming kind that had possessed it early, so she took caution to turn it slowly, inhaling, deeply, to be sure of she was smelling. It wasn’t the fire downstairs, she could tell, the woody smell was mixed with the nauseating smell of human flesh.   
She was relieved to see nothing in the room that wasn’t meant to be there, though. Just the furniture and the lone window off to the side, allowing sunlight to illuminate the room fully.   
“Something wrong, sir?” Joseph asked, as he passed in the hall, caring a towel and some coffee.   
“Pardon me, sir, but, do you smell anything unusual in this room?” She asked. Joseph obliged, taking a deep sniff of the space.  
“I’m afraid not, sir.” He studied her worried expression. “May I ask, what it is you believe you smell?”  
“I must just smell the fire in the hearth downstairs, it just seems to be coming from here.” She smiled. “Terribly sorry to be bother, I just had to be sure.”  
“Not a bother, sir.” Joseph nodded. “Let me know if it persists and I can investigate further.”  
“No need, sir. Just my imagination, I’m certain.”  
“Well, never can be careful with fire, Mr.Mauz.” He explained. “This is my livelihood. If you believe you smell fire where you should not, I’d rather you inform me at once and be mistaken than lose my entire business.”  
“Understood, Mr. Helm.”   
“Very well. Now, I must take this to another guest. I trust I’ll see you later on for supper tonight?”  
“Of course, sir. I look forward to it. I was very pleased with breakfast.” With another nod and a slight bow, Joseph continued to a room further back in the hall and Degory returned to her own. She wasn’t looking forward to sleeping here tonight, but she was running out of the little money she had gathered. She’d be lucky to afford another night or two here. If this new identity, this stolen name, could gain her any sort of station, she’d embrace it. Perhaps she’d take to the press or soon find herself with enough money to take her to another town.   
Whatever was going to happen, she’d figure it out, but she needed to decide soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

She’d never lived close enough to the docks to smell them, but didn’t mind the sea air at all. It was a bit welcoming. Perhaps, she should have come out this way sooner. Following Silas, they said little to each other, he’d only explained to her that he was only this job because he didn’t want to lose his head on the battle field.  
“Besides,” he added, teasingly, “A long day on the docks will certainly put hair on your chest.”  
“You’ve never seen me in the buff, my good sir, and I pray you never do.”  
“I’m betting that you ain’t got more than peach fuzz underneath that shirt I gave you, Mr. Mauz, and I’m willing to put money down on that.”  
“Well, Mr. Cole, I’m afraid gambling isn’t one of my vices.”  
“Ah, what a shame.” He laughed, turning into a small office across from the boats. “Here we are, now.”  
“And who might you be?” The man had to be about fifty, his hair was just beginning to gray and he’d obviously been at it a long time. Degory guessed he had to have started young, perhaps he’d been too poor for an education or simply enjoyed the hard labor of the docks. Maybe it made him feel like a man in ways an education could not. Either way, there he was, now. Smelling of whatever had just been retrieved from the boat and looking as if he hadn’t had a good nights rest in ages.  
“I’m Silas Cole, sir, and this is Degory Mauz.” The light haired young man stretched his arm out over the desk to the disinterested old man.  
“And how may I be of service to and this Mr. Mauz?” He asked, cooly, turning his attention back to the paperwork before him.  
“We understand you’re always looking for dock workers, sir. We’ve come to inquire about possible employment.”  
“Maybe you.” He grumbled. “But, I’m not sure Mr Mauz would be a good fit.”  
“Beg pardon, sir.” Irritated, he glanced back up at them.  
“Look, Mr. Cole, this is hard work. Not everyone can do it.”  
“Sir, you haven’t even given him ---”  
“Listen, boy, if you want to work, I’ll give you a job, but I don’t need tiny, frail men up there. They could get killed. Now,” With a huff he once again returned to the paperwork before him “If you don’t mind, sir, I’ve got days worth of paperwork I haven’t gotten through because I keep getting short staffed by this blasted war and young rascals running off looking for glory. I don’t have time to argue.”  
But, sir ----”  
“Mr. Cole.” She interrupted. “I can speak for myself.” Degory stepped forward. “I must apologize, sir, but I fear you never did introduce yourself.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, at least he’d looked back up from his work. “Sir, you mentioned you’re behind on paperwork because you are short staffed. Well, I can read, I can write, I can count… perhaps, you would allow me to assist you here rather than on the docks.” The old man seemed to consider this moment and looked to both of them.  
“Fine.” He released a heavy sigh. “I’m not about to waste precious time fighting you boys all day.” With his head turned down, Silas and Degory were able to exchange small smiles in the moment before he got up and gave them their first jobs. Finally having introduced himself as Isaiah Harper, they were pleased to at least be able to properly address him now.  
Degory couldn’t say any of the work was easy, but seeing the men on the boats moving around the shipments and working the pulleys, she couldn’t say she envied Silas in the least. It look grueling and not how she’d prefer to spend her day. At least, while she was in the office, it was a bit quieter, but she found she spent most of her time taking inventory on the boats and reporting back to Harper. Not the most prestigious of positions, but she was still gaining his trust, still trying on this new identity like a new skin and, she was afraid to say, she liked it. Maybe she’d remain Degory forever. After all, she wasn’t sure any real harm would come of it.  
As she stood on the dock of one of the boats, watching them load one last crate, she felt more than ready to return to the tavern and sup. As the pulley raised its package higher, though, she noticed the rope beginning to weaken.  
“Stop!” She cried, to no avail; no one was listening to the here.  
“What?” She turned to Silas.  
“The rope.” His gaze followed her finger to the crates brace and they both ran to pull the box lower, they were less likely to lose cargo or injure people the closer it was to the dock. It didn’t seem to yeild to their weight.  
“They’re not stopping.”  
“Can they not see us?” He shook his head. She wasn’t sure why no one was helping, but she undeterred. As quickly as she could, she pulled herself on top of the box.  
“Degory, are you mad?”  
“Do you have a blade?” She asked, pulling herself on top of the large crate. With a scoff, he pulled himself up high enough to meet her reach and placed a small dagger in it. Bracing herself with the rope above her head, she began to cut the box free.  
“Degory, stop!”  
“Silas!”  
“Yes?”  
“Stand back.”  
“But, Degory….If you just jump….”  
“Stand back!” She was only a few feet off the ground, but nearing the edge, it’d be pulled higher in moments and then out over the water. It needed to be cut loose now. Preparing for the short, hard, fall, and not able to remember what was in the crate, she cut the third rope and used her weight to push the box the rest of the way free.  
Tumbling off the crate and onto the dock, she rolled a bit before hitting her head on a pole. A bit dizzy, she glanced up and pulled herself onto her elbows.  
“Well, now, Dugory.” Silas was laying across for her, he’d obviously tried to direct the load and was rewarded by being thrown back into the center of the deck. “I think its obvious who was right this morning about you.” She held her ribs as she laughed, realizing she must of bruised them in the fall. “What do you say you get us that pint.” Already on his feet, he stumbled a bit before reaching her and offering her his hand.  
“That sounds lovely.” 

Back at the Tavern, she quickly straightened herself up. Washing her face and combing her hair, in hopes of washing a bit of the day away. It was no matter, though, she was anxious for a drink, it’d been ages since she had one.  
“What are you having?”  
“Just an ale.” He replied. “I’m not picky so long as the spirit is with me.” Degory rolled his eyes.  
“Thats a terrible joke.”  
‘Yes, but you’re smiling. A hear plenty of maidens downstairs, perhaps you just need a little spirit.”  
“I’m sure I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” Silas raised his eyebrow.  
“I’m sure a young man like you does.” He paused. “Or doesn’t he.” Before continuing, Degory cleared her throat.  
“I’ll have you know, I was once married.”  
“I see.”  
“Another thing, I dare say, I’d like to not talk about.” Silas nodded in understanding and lead the way down the stairs to the buzzing of chaos and music being hosted on the main floor. All she wanted was her meal and a cider, the other people were simply something to whether. Too much noise, too much distraction,... especially considering all the decisions she needed to make. Perhaps it could wait until later.  
She’d never been more grateful for a savory pie in her life.Considering how her life had changed in the last two days, she may have just needed the food more.  
“You should slow down, Degory.” Silas returned to his seat, feeling the affects of his ale and pulling a lady onto his lap. “The pie isn’t going to run away.”  
“Leave him alone, Silas, I’m sure he’s had to work twice as hard as you.” The woman gestured, “Look at him.” Degory gave her a bit of a glare, but kept her focus on her pie.  
“Actually, Degory is very skilled and he doesn’t have to work harder because he works smarter and faster.”  
“Is that so?” She felt their guest eyeing her, looking her up and down as if studying her. “Degory, it’s lovely to meet you, my names Lucretia.”  
“Evening, Lucretia.” Intentionally, she met Lucretia’s eyes, making sure the steady focus was obvious, and gave a nod. “And how are you this night?”  
“I’d be better if Silas wasn’t so intent on keeping you company.” She giggled. “He says you have no friends.”  
“I’ve only just gotten here, my good lady, friendships take time to develop and grow.”  
“Very true. My best friend was my sister until I had to leave.”  
“Oh, was she very fair, Silas?”  
“Oh, the fairest, my sweet Lucretia, in our entire town, but that was before I came here.” He winked. In one swoop, he brought them both on their feet and out to the dance floor. Degory could only shake her head. Seeing Silas romance a woman of the evening wasn’t something she wanted to witness. As quickly as she could, she slurped up the last of the gravy and downed the last swallow of cider before heading up and to bed. It simply wasn’t her scene, but she was happy to see Silas enjoying himself. She wondered if maybe his “Sweet Lucretia” would be joining them for breakfast tomorrow. Only a moment with her and she wasn’t sure she could bare an entire meal.  
“You’re just being sensitive.” She mumbled to herself, feeling the slightest of affects from the cider. “It’ll be better in the morning.” The few times she’d opened the knob to room and each time the knob had felt warmer than it should. It was metal and the heat from the fire downstairs didn’t reach of the stairs with such strength as to feel heated each time. She swallowed hard as she turned the knob and was greeted by the now familiar smell; the smoke and the charred flesh. She wondered if it would ever leave her. If she took off tonight, would it follow her to the next tavern, or the next? Was she going crazy?  
Quickly, she dismissed that thought. It was guilt plaquing her and feeding on her like a leech. Joseph smelled nothing. She was imagining it all.  
Even the smoke?  
Of course the smoke, she decided Yes, even the smoke.  
The choking felt so real.  
For children, nightmares are real, and what are we but old children?  
Closing the door behind her, she allowed the darkness to engulf her. The bed was waiting and she needed to rest for the following day. Being someone new was hard and being a man was more complicated than she imagined when she made the impulsive decision to take it on.  
Finding her old shirt in the darkness was a feat, but no worse than the small, brief adventure she’d had earlier that day. It was nice to sleep in something familiar. Before work tomorrow, she’d check in on Marco, maybe take him for a ride in the evening, something nice for him. He might be worried about her, at least more so than anyone else.  
Sunday she’d spend the entire day with him and they’d go riding. He would definitely want for some exercise in the next few days. She bid goodnight to the world, again, with a strong yawn. It’d also been a long time since she’d fallen asleep so fast.  
She smelled it again. Even felt the flames as she opened her eyes, but saw no sign of it. No smoke, no fire, just him, again, sitting in the chair.  
“You never told me why you left me.”  
“You need to go.” She tried to keep her voice strong and steady, assertive and clear.  
“Why did you leave me.”  
“I said to leave.” Tossing her legs over the far end of the bed, she rose to her feet. “You’re not real.”  
“Tell me why you left me.” When he turned to face her, the sight of his charred face and peeling skin pulled a scream out of her so deep, she’d never touched that place within herself.  
Again, she brought in the smoke as she shot of bed and she could feel it burn all the way down into her lungs. She gasped and cried, struggling through the darkness and fog to grab at her coat. After struggling and choking, she was, once again, on the floor, clawing at the boards to bring her closer to the only exit.With all the strength she could muster, she pulled her hand, wrapped in the jacket to the knob and pulled the door open. Finally, in the hallway, she could breath.  
“Mr. Mauz?” Still coughing, she pulled herself up onto her feet and met Joseph’s gaze.  
“I had a terrible dream.” She managed to fight out between coughs. “I just need a tea and to go back to sleep.” Joseph obliged and she returned to her room.  
The smoke was gone now. Awaiting Joseph’s prompt return, she pulled on her trousers and stood in the doorway.  
“Degory, you alright?” Silas asked, pulling Lucretia up the stairs, obviously taken by the liquor she’d been consuming.  
“I’m fine, Silas. Just a terrible dream. Mr. Helm is bringing me a tea to settle my nerves.”  
“Ah! Poor little boy have a bad dream?” Lucretia cooed, tauntingly.  
“Lucretia, stop. We all have bad dreams, he’s man enough to calm himself down and tuck himself in. Don’t be rude.”  
“Sorry.” She laughed. Silas smiled as he nodded towards her and gave Degory a wink.  
“We’ll see you at breakfast.”  
“I can’t wait.” Degory replied, dryly.  
To be honest, she wasn’t sure if the tea would actually calm her nerves or not, but it brought her chilled body to a more acceptable temperature. For a very long while, she sat in the dark, sipping at the tea and absorbing its heat until it was gone and she no further excuse not to try to sleep again. Wrapped in the covers, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, but it was hard to ignore the scent of the room. It still smelled of smoke and fire and death. 

The light of the morning didn’t really make things any better. Her head was swimming with the nightmares that had her tossing and turning all night. At breakfast, she sat across from Silas and Lucretia, who were fawning over her each other. Lucretia, sat upon Silas lap, insisted upon feeding him and, frankly, her giggle simply hammered into Degory’s head; exaccerbating the already growing heacache that sleeplessness had brought on. She only ate because she knew, if she didn’t, her stomach being empty until supper would only make her sicker.  
“I’m going on ahead.” She told Silas, who finally looked away from Lucretia she ackowledge she was there.  
“Are you sure? I won’t be a moment.”  
“I’m sure.” She said, grabbing an apple from the table. “Besides, I want to make a stop first.”  
The only thing that might soothe her, at this point, was seeing a familiar face from before who wouldn’t look upon her with judgement; who knew everything that had happened and why.  
Her pain, her failures, her sins…. Everything, but only responded with love.  
“Heya, Marco.” She cooed, approaching the brown horse in his stall. “I hope you haven’t minded being here. I paid the boy a bit extra to see you were comfortable.” He bounced his head and huffed, agreeably, and she responded with a smile. “I brought you something. A special treat.” From her coat, she retrieved the apple and it was excepted with an excited whiny. “Oh, everything will be all right.” She patted at his neck and kissed him. “You know, they think I’m a man. Even better yet, they think I’m Degory.” She pretended his chews where responses. “I know, I have no idea where on Earth they’d get the idea I’m a man. I mean, look at me.” Degory gestured to her small framed body. “Perhaps small statured men aren’t a rarity in these parts. Either way, I’ve gotten a job.” Another giggle. “Oh, its not bad at all, Marco. Its …. Interesting to be respected, even a little. Its so different than what I’m use to. People actually looked at me yesterday. I’m hoping more, genuine respect will come. Its nice to have people looking you in the face and giving you responsibilities. I dare say, this job doesn’t even seem terribly hard and yesterday wasn’t an awful day, though, I did bump my head. That hurt a bit.” Degory rubbed at the back of her skull as she, gleefully, recounted her day to Marco. “I don’t know, I just, I feel like I could do anything now and, I know that sounds silly, but maybe I wasn’t meant to be a wife… or mother.” Her face dropped, thoughtfully. “I mean, after all, everyone is different, who’s to say that I’m not meant to live the rest of my days out as a man.” Marcos huff made her twist her face in response. “I know, I would probably die a bachelor, but I don’t see any real shame in that; just imagined embarrassment. Just because this choice may consign me to a life of loneliness doesn’t mean that it might not be a good life otherwise. Besides,” She smiled. “I’ll have you, won’t on.” Before leaving, she gave the steed a hug and kiss. “You behave now, I’ll be back no later than Sunday.”  
By the time work was over that night, her very bones where fatigued. After making a big todo about his size, Mr. Harper had decided she had to learn the job of the men on the deck before doing more paperwork. She figured he was trying to get rid of her, but she was deterred, just exhausted from the hard labor. Having never done it before, there were several muscles in her body she didn’t think she’d ever used before that were aching and throbbing; begging for a warm bath, but that could wait until tomorrow night. She wanted to be well rested and washed for her ride with Marco on Sunday, if only to be able to fully enjoy the freedom of the ride. It was also nice to know she needn’t come back if she chose not to. The only one who might miss her is Silas and, given the attention he was ready to dote about Lucretia, again, for the second night in a row, she doubted she be missed too horribly.  
“Silas, you scoundrel.” He growled, pulled her close with an evil laugh, and gave Lucretias neck a nibble. “Honestly, Mr. Cole, we are in public.”  
“Aye, but we don’t have to be.” The whisper he gave was threatening and flirty; promising things which Degory doubted he could satisfactorilly deliver, but what did she know. She’d never met him in the biblical sense, perhaps she underestimated him. Lucretia didn’t seem genuinely deterred.  
“You really must stop, Silas” She pushed his face away. “You invited poor Degory to sit with us and I haven’t heard you say ‘boo’ since.”  
“Oh, I’m quite well, Lucretia, dear.” She said between slurps of the stews gravy in her bowl. “Besides, I’ll be retiring after I finish my cider.” The mug was only half filled. Spending too much more time do her, she was certain, would make her more nauseated than the site across the table. “I didn’t sleep very well last night and I think, perhaps, laying down early would serve me well.”  
“You did seem a bit unwell at work today.” Silas commented.  
“My work was a bit unwell, Mr Cole.” She scoffed.  
“Very true.”  
“Pray, what happened?” Lucretia asked.  
“Well, after insisting he didn’t want to hire Mr Mauz, here, because of his, if you’ll pardon me,... size, and agreeing to give him a clerical job, he had him working on the boats all day with the rest of us.”  
“No wonder you look so raggid.” Degory bulked at the observation.  
“I’m as well as I can be, ma’am, and I accomplished every task he gave to me.” Silas grunted in agreement, swallowing another mouth full of his ale. “I hope you have a good night. I’ll see you both in the morning.” Not wanting to prolong her goodbye, she chugged the last of her cider and drug herself up the stairs, hoping for the best and fearing the worst, but she wasn’t surprised when she could smell him in there.  
The smoke, the ash, and the undeniable smell of burnt flesh hung in the air like a sheet of insible snow. It was heavy and, somehow, cold and unwelcoming. In the right light, though, she thought, it would probably be a wonder, but not to her.  
She was certain he would never leave her alone and she wondered if she would be cursed to see his disfigured, blackened, face every night for the rest of her life. Maybe she deserved it, though, the way she left him; at the mercy of the flames that took the entire life she knew with it. Except Marco. Through it all, she though, I still have Marco.  
The night was just as restless as the last; his ghost haunting her through the night. Perhaps he meant to take her with her, to keep him company for the rest of eternity for recompense for the wrong she did him. She could imagine his ashen hand, wrapped around her ankle, dragging her down into the pits of hell to set with him, forever. Knowing no love but the vengeful love of hellfires flame, that would blacken and peel away at each patch of her skin with its kisses. It was its nature, she thought, to love like that. If fire were a true being, it wouldn’t know how to show love in any way but pain and destruction… Just like her.  
The walk to work with SIlas was a welcome repreve from her dark, tortured, evening the night before. Even though she didn’t wish to talk or, even she had wanted to, had very little to say, it was nice to feel the sun lights on her back and enjoy the light with another person. Talk wasn’t necessary, only company.  
“You, uh, seem to be having trouble sleeping.” Degory said nothing. “Its just… these past two nights, you’ve been in the hallway, choking.” She looked at him, questioningly. “Lucretia heard you.”  
“Well, I pray you entertain her better tonight.” Degory hadn’t meant to sound afronted or offended, but she didn’t wish to discuss the midnight visitor she’d had, or how he stunk something like burnt ham, and left a flood of smoke in her lung in his wake. She’d rather pretend none of it happened. All that’d happened is a call of nature or a craving for a tea had roused her from a restful sleep and nothing more. Especially something that scared her so much and kept her from peaceful dreams like she once had.  
With a shrug and a sigh, he seemed to take the hint.  
“We were just a bit worried, thats all.”  
“Well, sir, you’d do better than to fret over me.” She said. “If I require your assistance, I’m not afraid to ask it of you.”  
“I understand, sir. Just know,” he continued, “that Lucretia told me of a doctor in town that might be able to help you. If you want, we can take you to him.”  
“I’ll inform you if I change my mind.” Degory paused. “Thank you,... friend. I did not mean to be so  
Disagreeable. I understand that you are simply expressing concern and I am grateful for your kindness, I am just not sure I wish for any help as of yet. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

Once evening finally came again, like clockwork, the gnawing in her stomach began. Degory could not recall the last time she’d felt so hungry aside from the morning after she arrived. Today was another savory pie of sorts and she cared not what meat the chef had chose to serve that night. Frankly, given its look and taste, it could have been damn near any animal.  
“Did you tell him, Silas?”  
“Yes, dearest, and he insisted he didn’t want our help as of yet.”  
“Are you sure? You seemed so distress last night. You should at least let him look you over.”  
“I’ll consider it,” She told Lucretia, “But, I really doubt he could help me.”  
“Well, he’s helped many a woman here who feared no one could help them.” She whispered, masking her mouth with a drink.  
“I’m not sure, exactly, who you mean to send me to, but I really don’t like the sounds of him.” Degory insisted.  
“Fine. But, sir, I do hope you change your mind. You gave me such a fright last night.”  
“I apologize for that.” She finished her cider. “I do hope I don’t disturb you tonight.” That was the truth; if she didn’t have a visitor tonight, as she had the last few nights, she wouldn’t disturb them, and she desperately hoped for a lonely night.

Moonlight draped over her bed; the only thing illuminating the deep darkness of her room. Degory didn’t want to close the curtains, though she should; she might sleep better in pure black, but she felt him waiting. He was always there; hiding just behind her eyelids and waiting to taught her. She wondered if he wanted to drag her down to hell with him. Was that the flames she was seeing and smelling? The stench of his eternal home? The eternal home he wished to bring her to. This thought made her sob, nearly silently, in the darkness, gripping at her blanket with one hand and cover her mouth, to muffle her cries, with the other.  
She worried, perhaps, if Silas knew, he wouldn’t have befriended have befriended her. Maybe he’d have drug her back to where she came from; kicking and screaming, but not much of a match for his six foot two frame. His shoulders were so broad, her tiny body would fit over one of them like a small small flour sack.  
And then there was Lucretia. Lucretia.  
“Are you sleeping?” Came the soft whisper from the other side of the door.  
“Not really.” She responded, loud enough for only Lucretia to hear in the hall, as she rose from the bed to open the door. “Do you need something?”  
“Nothing, really.” Her eyes draped down to the floor. “I only wanted to check on you. You really worried me last night.”  
“That was nothing.” Degory dismissed her. “You’ve no need to worry, my lady. I’m prone to nightmares. Thats all.”  
“I see.” Degory had never seen her with her hair down. The soft, raven black curls bounced a bit around her forehead before she restrained them behind her ear. “I’m not sure why you don’t seem to like me, Degory, but I very much like you.” Her soft smile made Degory’s heart bounce in her chest. “I think you seem a very gentle soul and I hope to enjoy more of your company.”  
“I see.” Degory swallowed hard before meeting Lucretia’s eyes. “I’m sure Silas would like having his beau enjoy the company of his friends.” She wasn’t sure what she saw in Lucretia’s eyes, perhaps disappointment or fatigue.  
“I’m sure he would.” Licking her lips, Degory wasn’t sure what to say next, this was very new to her.  
“Thank you, Lucretia.” Degory made a concerted effort to show her sincere gratitude in her face. “Your kindness is an attribute that will serve you well.” The gentle heat of a blush colored her cheeks, she knew, the feeling was unmistakable. Before Lucretia could go though, she reached out and placed her hand on her forearm. “Lucretia, … do you smell what I smell?” The puzzled look on Lucretias face faded and she stepped up next to Degory, placing their shoulders together. So close, Degory could properly smell the vanilla perfume she wore. She, herself, had long favored sandalwood when she was lucky enough to be able to purchase any. Lucretia must be well off, she thought, I wonder what brought her here.  
“I think so.”  
“You do?” Degory thought, for a moment, her eyes may bulge out of her head. The entire time, she thought perhaps she was going crazy.  
“It smells a bit like….” Lucretia stepped away. “Like my uncles farm.”  
“What?”  
“When he would butcher and roast pigs.” She explained. “It smelled a bit like that.”  
“You truly smell it?”  
“Yes.”  
“Thank you.” Degory felt her face twist into a look of overwhelming relief. “I thought myself going mad.”  
“What is it?”  
“I’m not sure.” She lied. “It comes and goes. I think its permiates my unconscious mind when I’m asleep and send me awful dreams of going into a smoker alive.”  
“Thats horrifying!” Degory nodded.  
“Thats why I come out choking.” She explained. “The smoke feel so real to me that I feel the burning in my throat and it just sucks the air all out of my lungs.” Lucretia laughed.  
“The mind is a funny thing, for certain.”  
“You’re telling me. Last night, the tea barely soothed me and it was agony trying to return to sleep.”  
“Well, I hope you manage to rest up well for tomorrow.”  
“I plan to.” Unintentially, she gave Lucretia a warm, flirty smile and found her own hand reaching for hers. “I do you you have a peaceful rest yourself, my dear Lucretia.” She said, planting a kiss on the back of Lucretias hand. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”  
“Good night, Degory.”  
“Good night, Lucretia.” As she closed her door, a soft feeling of panic rose in her, realizing what they both had smelled and what may be waiting for her when she laid back down and tried to close her eyes. As she spun around, though, she brought her hand to her mouth with such force and desperation to stop the scream from leaving her lips, that that slap echoed in the room.  
“You left me.” The creature said, looming over her in the darkness. Ashen skin was peeling away revealing bloody, pinkened flesh, though the smell of the roasted human flesh, she thought, perhaps, she could also smell a bit of rotting. The hint of some nature, primal smell only found in nature after scenes of great gore. After beasts of all sort, winged and hoofed, had feasted on the corpse, after the sun had taken it in under its light for far to long, discoloring it and calling about the last of the burden to take back the lost life to the earth that it had come from. The smell of rot, garbage, of decay. The smell of the sick. The smell of the long gone prey still waiting for the last of itself to be devoured and carried home.  
“You left me.” The voice was more insistent.  
“Go away.” She demanded.  
“You don’t have to see me to know I’m here.”  
With that, it was gone. Disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone with nothing but moonlight and tears. Perhaps, she thought, she’d finally rest a bit. Maybe that was goodbye or a dire warning. She hoped for the best, but feared the worst as she blindly made her way across the floor in the moonlight to her bed and wrapped its covers around her as tight as she could. Silently, she prayed for sleep to take her and, maybe, just maybe, never let her go. 

Another morning where the sunlight roused her. Even after only a few days, she was beginning to prefer it to any other method. It was almost comforting; the warm light of the sun kissing her face, and coaxing her to rise into the new day, but she found herself disappointed she had awoken at all. Maybe it was for the best, though. She could try to make things better if she were still around. But, she could still hear the words in her ear from last night.  
“You don’t have to see me to know I’m here.”  
It was true.  
She’d worry about that later, though. Right now, the earthly form she still possessed, rather she liked it or not, required sustananance and the smell of eggs, potatoes, and meat were tickling at her nose. As she pulled on her trousers, she wondered if Lucretia and Silas were downstairs. She also wondered if Lucretia had breathed a single syllable about having come to her room last night. Degory decided she’d not worry about it unless it was directly mentioned. Maybe playing dumb was the best course of action. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she feared Silas may interpret her actions differently. Living as a man, in many ways, was far more complicated than living as woman and, in other ways, was far simpler. Being able to simply brush and tie her hair back was nice. Before, she’d spend more time that she liked to admit pulling it up to pin it just so. Her mother had taught her that, but it took her ages to be able to do it passably well, and even then, she’d stop to pull it back again through out the day when it fell down, naturally, in the course of her day. It was something she’d been taught was important, though. One must always look as good as possible when one is married so as not to bring any embarrassment up their husband.  
Silly really, she scoffed at it now. Being a man, through all she’d had to endure, was definitely preferable to the life she had been living… The one she left behind forever when she set fire to it.  
Oddly enough, ham was served at breakfast that day. Degory shared a small, silent, smile with Lucretia and she took her first bite.  
“Did you sleep well last night, Degory?” Silas asked, already enjoying a cider.  
“I slept just fine once I fell asleep, thank you.”  
“Thats a blessing.” Lucretia said.  
“Absolutely. My friend, you must understand how frightful you looked the other night.”  
“Frightful.” Degory laughed.  
“Yes.” Lucretias eyes grew wide. “You were so pale and you looked…. Ashy.”  
“Ashy?”  
“Yeah, like you’d just crawled out of a chimney flue.” Silas said.  
“But, the moment Mr Helm appeared…”  
“It vanished.” Silas finished, slapping his hands together.  
“You were still very pale, so we thought we must have been mistaken and it was because of the lack of light, but, it was very odd. And the way your eyes looked sunk into your head….”  
“Right. It was scary.” Silas shook his head. “You feared you unwell, Degory. You were white as a ghost. Its why we talked of you going to a doctor.”  
“Well, I appreciate your concern.” Degory spoke carefully. “I feel very well, now, though.” 

The walk to the carriage house was a grand reprieve for her, though, she worried she had been a bit to greedy with the apples she’d plucked from the kitchen.  
“Hello, Marco.” She greeted him with a smile. “Are you ready for our ride?” Degory handed him an apple from her pocket. “Let’s get you brushed and such first.” Finding a brush near the stall, she gingerly began running it across his coat. Maybe it was just her, but she was convinced, though he didn’t get as much attention as he had before, that he was a much happier horse, far away from where they came from. “I told you he’s been in my dreams, right?” Marco’s head bobbed, as if nodding. “I’ve been smelling smoke, too, and the Tavern keeper hasn’t. But, my friends beau, Lucretia… she smelled it.” For a moment, she paused, searching the horses face and hoping for some semplence of an answer. “Do you think that means anything?” When she couldn’t determine what his answer might be, she sighed and began to saddle him up. “I mean, its like… like she was suppose to. Do you think he wanted her to smell it.” Again, she search his face, this time, finding something she felt was an answer in his expression. “Me, neither. She seems nice enough and Silas is very fond of her, but I’m not sure how much I like her. Her humor is a bit… odd.” With the saddle and bridle on correctly, she began to pull herself up. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, no one will pay any mind to our absence from church.” She whispered, before ushering him out of the stall to explore their new home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

She was sick of the nightmares. She’d been sick of them since she had the first one her first day here. It was becoming nonsense. Warm milk, teas, baths, snake oil concoctions, she was willing to try them all, so she knew, deep down, none would ward him off. So, Degory simply bent to the wishes of her ghost and resigned herself to her punishment. After all, when one sins, one must atone. This was definitely a sin. Nothing would keep his determined, restless, spirit at bay,  
Sometimes, late at night, she wondered what they all thought had happened to her. They must have noticed Marco gone.  
It mattered little, but it kept her up nights. Were they looking? Were they worried? Did they think her dead, too? Sometimes, she wished she was.  
The measely station her employment bought her was thrilling. She’d never had such autonomy before. Of course, this came with the drawbacks. The men she worked with enjoyed making light of her size and ignoring her because of them.Degory was going to have to prove herself. She had hoped, perhaps, her little ride on the crate the first day would have helped her along, but it didn’t seem to budge them. They were pretty married to their hazing of her.  
How, she wondered, would Degory, the small man from the Ohio Country, deal with this?  
Between the ghost at night and the dock workers during the day, she was becoming tired, worn, and irritated as she reached the end of her tether.  
“They’re never going to respect you.” Silas explained. “Its your size and your working more in the office now more than anything. They’re going to give you the business.” Degory huffed.  
“I just feel like I’m fighting an uphill battle and I’m growing weary.”  
“Thats because you are, but don’t grow weary, yet, friend. We’ve barely just begun here. Besides, Mr. Harper seems to like you as much as he likes anyone.”  
“Does he like anyone?”  
“Thats my point.” Silas continued. “He ‘s a bitter old man who enjoys yelling and swearing to actually trying to solve the problem. You, my friend, are his… ambassador.”  
“Ambassador?”  
“Yes, he has you do all the work he would usually do out here because he knows you’re better at it than him.”  
“But, without proper respect, I can’t do it.”  
“Course you can, just not very well.” Degory rolled his eyes.  
“What’ll I do? I’ve heard them joking about dropping me into the sea.” Silas laughed.  
“I’d never let them do that.”  
“You couldn’t stop all of them.”  
“Yes, I could.”  
“How, pray tell?”  
“They actually like me.” Another disguested sigh left her lips as her eyes flitted off into the distance; towards the boats they were walking to in the early morning light. “Oy, don’t be like that, Degory, old man, what do you expect? Some of those men been working down here for ages and you swoop down, bold as brass, and get the bosses ear like that.” He snapped his finger.  
“I don’t have Mr. Harpers ear.”  
“Yeah, of course not, but they think you do.”Degory stopped and smiled.  
“Do they, truly?”  
“Yeah, why?” For a moment, as he stopped even with her, he seemed puzzelled. It gave her great joy to see the realization in his eyes. “What do you plan to do, Dug?”  
“I’m not sure, yet, Silas, but if I can manage, I’ll keep you apprised.”  
Degory was certain she’d smelled few things as bad as Mr. Harpers office. Perhaps it was to do with all his business and trading in various items… or maybe it was his own poor hygiene. Degory didn’t know, nor did she care. That day, she knew she’d be in the office; Mr. Harper had books and books to go through and she knew thats where she would be needed.  
Through the awful scent that carried through the room like a fog, she placed herself at the desk she’d been allotted.  
“I suppose you’ll finally prove your work today.” Mr. Harper snarled. “You can start with these. Little damage can be done to these records.” Ignoring the insult, she thanked him and set to work. “I do truly hope you can read, but I’d not be surprised to find you a liar.”  
“Sir,” She began, calmly, biting a bit at her tongue. “I promise I have never mislead you in my abilities, have I not been taking inventory these past few weeks? Have you not read my reports?” Mr. Harper snorted, dismissively, and returned to his own book.  
Never had she been so thankful for the lessons she’d been given when she was younger. At the time, she hadn’t realized how much her mother had fought for her to have them, but now, that she needed to utilized them, she said a silent prayer of gratitude to her mother and began to wonder what she might be doing now. Maybe she should have left, but, deep down, Degory knew no good could’ve come from staying after that night.  
After many hours of mind numbing numbers and aching fingers, through the thick foul odor that hung in the building like water, a familiar scent caught her nose. It was ashes, and flame, and flesh. She paused from her writing and looked over to Mr. Harper.  
“Mr. Harper, sir, do you… does something smell… odd to you?”  
“I don’t pay you to smell, boy.” He grumbled, not looking up from his own book. “Perhaps you haven’t yet gotten use to the smell of the docks.”  
“It wasn’t the docks, sir.” She argued. “I thought I smelled… I don’t know, smoke?”  
“Hmmm, well, if you don’t hear screaming and shouting, its probably nothing of the sort.”  
“Sorry, sir.” She considered a moment. “I’m certain, you’re right.” The scent lingered, though, tugging at her very nose hairs. She may have sneezed half a dozen times in succession, either way, the fit angered Mr. Harper, who grumbled at her.  
“Perhaps, you’d feel more at home back on the docks.” He threatened.  
“I’m fine, sir.” Refusing to look up, she sniffled. “Just a bit of dust. No need to fret.”  
Before Mr. Harper could reply, with whatever insulting gripe he had in mind to attack her with, a well dressed man walked in; he smelled of some foreign perfumed soap and spoke softly. His coat looked new and very fine. It had to have been expensive. Even the chain of his pocket watch, glinting in the bit of sunlight they were allotted, appeared to be gold, if not something equally as fine.  
“Pardon me, Mr. Harper.” He approached the old man. “I’ve come to make my payment.” Mr. Harper grumbled a bit.  
“Well, give it to the boy,” Mr. Harper gestured to Degory, not looking up. “He’s working on those books.” Degory rose and gave a slight bow to the man.  
“And who may you be,... sir?” The ‘sir’ was definitely a question, but she didn’t allow it to phase her.  
“My name is Degory Mauz, sir. At your service.” She deepened her bow a bit.  
“I am Luke Melder.” He smiled, and, Degory believed, she saw a bit of embarrasment rise on his cheeks. Perhaps he was suggesting he could she was a woman and simply felt bested, which was fine by her, the more people who thought her a man here in the city, the more she’d be able to do and get done. She accepted his outstretched wrist and gave it the hardest, briefest shake she could. “You’ll find everything to be in order, Mr. Mauz.” He said, presenting her with an envelope. “I do hope I see you again, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  
“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Melder.” She dropped her voice, waiting for him to turn and begin his exit before she returned to her seat.  
“Mr. Harper, you’ll forgive me, but I did wish to speak with you.” Again, Luke approached the grey miser. “Would you mind accompanying me out to my carriage?” With a huff, as was his nature, he picked his wrinkling, large, body up off his chair with great effort and limped to the door with the gentleman.  
She paid them little mind as she opened the envelope, prepared to turn to the last page and enter in the payment he made. Carefully, she counted the money. It was a large sum of money; certainly more than she’d ever seen or been allowed to touch. Five hundred and sixty five pounds. The moment she opened the book, though, a deep, cold feeling burned at her right shoulder; she could feel it in the very bones. With a yelp, she turned up and met the red, empty eyes of the burnt corpse. The flaking, burnt skin, peeling away from his cheeks to reveal the pink meat within them. Unable to move and unable to scream, she could only meet his eyes and feel the chilly cold of the hell she feared he had come to drag her to. Fire or ice didn’t matter; they both burned flesh and killed it in different but similar ways. She could feel, with all of her, this cold feeling; the freezing burning sensation she felt in her very bones was a promise; not a threat, of what laid before her.  
The feel of him releasing her shoulder hurt, too. Like pulling a knife from a wound; recutting flesh and opening up blood vessels to flow as the willed. A gasp left her lips as he disappeared and left her in the office, gasping for air. It was, at that moment, she realized, she hadn’t been breathing the entire intire time he had touched her. The air Degory drew into her lungs burned her again so fiercely, she feared she would never not feel burning somewhere in her body; her skin, her bones, her organs, were all aflame from his touch, now.  
As she fell to the floor, desperate for air; screeching for it, she gripped at the floor boards and dug in her nails; desperate to remain on earth; refusing both heaven and hell with every inch of her mortal form.  
I’ll not go, I’ll not go. Was all she could think. I’ll not go.  
The sound of the door opening came at a time when her breath was more even, but she had to wipe tears away from her eyes. The redness, she knew, would not be so easy to explain away.  
“What in blazes are you doing on the floor, boy?” Mr. Harper spat.  
“Apologies, sir, “ Not sure what to say, she said what came to mind. “I had dropped my pen, Mr. Harper, and stumbled… Hit my nose. I should be fine.” Rising to her feet, Degory decided it was time to take a bit of a break. “I require the necessary, sir, I’ll not be long.” Giving him a brief bow, she flew out of the room, hoping the few minutes walk back and forth would bring the color back to her face and the moisture away from her eyes. Besides, the smell of that room was hard for her bare hours on end.  
Alone in the privy, she finished collecting herself. It wasn’t as if the smell of the box was any better or worse than the smell of the office; just different. More… natural, as it were. Degory groaned as she relieved herself, ashing to only be free of the trouble she’d brought on herself. This life was better, for certain, but she wasn’t sure the cost of appropriate at all.  
Maybe, she thought, preparing to walk back, things could get better, if she could only figure out how to improve things.  
As she passed some men, she kept her tongue Harperd in her mouth, allowing there harassments to fall on deaf ears. Their insinuations were vulgar and stomach churning to her, considered they involved her performing certain sexual favors on someone she found as foul as Mr. Harper. A wrinkle of the nose, a brief groan, and a sigh, were all she needed to allow them flow off her shoulder like water. It was really no matter what they thought, but it would certainly make life easier if they were kinder to her. If only to improve her quality of life and believability as a man, she wanted their respect.  
“Mr. Harper, sir,” She questioned, walking him to see him fiddling with the envelope. “May I ask what you are doing?”  
“None of your business, boy.” He growled. “Now, get back to work.” Mr Harper never passed a glance at her as returned to his own desk, following his lead, she approached her own; curious still at to what he had been doing. Degory had an inkling, though, there were few things he could have been doing.  
Without looking up or giving any hint as to her suspicions, she recounted the money. Unsurprised, Degory decided to chart the old amount, rather than the new one of four hundred and fifty pounds. This, she knew, was how she’d begin to get the mens respect. If they were being cheated and found out, she wondered, though, who would Mr. Harper blame?  
She may be the only other person to touch these books and, she was sure after her time spent here, she had to be the only person that could read in his employ… this must have been the reason.  
That evening, she ushered Silas into the office, Mr. Harper had left not long ago, leaving her alone. Degory was very sure this would make the other men like her less and continue with the taunting, if they saw.  
“I want to show you something.” She opened the book to the page she’d added the sale that day. “Now, this was what it was the first time I counted, but I left to use the privy and came back to only three hundred and fifty pounds.” She explained. “I do believe that Mr. Harper is stealing and, as a result, paying us the meager amount his does to do hard labor.”  
Silas seemed to consider this a moment.  
“I’m not sure how we prove it, though. All we have is your word. Thats not going to sell the boys on Mr. Harper’s dishonesty.”  
“And outright thievery.” She rolled her eyes. “How can we prove this to them?”  
“They’d almost need to see it themselves.”  
“How can we make that happen?” Silas considered this a moment.  
“Do you’ve any idea when Mr. Melder should return?” She shook her head.  
“I’ve never seen him before in my life. Not even sure how often he stops by.” Degory opened the book and flipped through a bit. “It looks its two times a month, judging from the log. But, thats hard to tell.” Closing the book, she dropped her shoulders and grabbed her things. “I just need to get the men to hear that he’s cooking the books and they’re getting underpaid. I need them to hear one of these gentlemen say it.”  
“I agree.” Silas followed her out. “I suppose, you’ll just have to keep your eyes peeled for the right moment.”  
“Or try to make it happen.There are several men in that book, there should be more than one coming around again soon for me bring it out of.” 

That evening at dinner, Degory found herself to distracted to focus on the conversation at the table. It was no matter anyway, Lucretia and Silas seemed pretty wrapped up in themselves. She wasn’t sure why he had a paid a visit to her at the office that day. That and Mr. Harpers indiscretions forced her to remain deep in her own mind, the giggles of the lovers and a lone guitar guitar playing in the background, blurring together in the background.  
She thought of his cold touch, the very touch of death and how it permeated her skin down to her very bones; she could almost feel it, again, as she shoveled in more vegetable pie to ward the pain off.  
“What do you think, Degory?” The sound of her name nearly made her jump as she flitted her eyes up to meet Lucretias.  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“I was just saying to Silas that perhaps I should bring a friend tomorrow for you… see if you get on.” Degory found herself stuttering a moment.  
“I’m not certain I’m in a proper state to be courting at the moment.” She explained.  
“Nonsense.” She insisted, placing her hand on Degory’s thigh. For the first time that day, she felt warm. Genuinely warm. As cold as her visitors hand had felt at the office that day, it had lingered with her until the moment she had felt Lucretias delicate touch. “You’re a fine gent and you should really have a proper wife. At the very least, you should be courting. What’ll people think, a young strapping bachelor, riding into town...sleeping alone every night in some dark, dusty tavern.”  
“I should hope they’d think it’s none of their business.”  
“I agree, but you know they won’t, Dug.” Silas said, raising his ale to his lips. “Its just the way things are. The men are already talking about you and Mr. Harper.” She groaned.  
“If they believe I’d have anything with that old, thieving, wrinkly prick, they’ve got more of an imagination than they give themselves credit for.” Silas laughed.  
“Either way, Dug, it could do you some good.” He continued. “You know, a little dancing in the moonlight, a little romance, a little heat in the sheets, if you know what I mean…”  
“I believe I do.” She took a deeper swig of her cider.  
“Oh, Degory, please.” Lucretia leaned into her again. “It’d make me very happy.”  
“Madam,” She began, “As much as your happiness means to me, I fear this is not a thing I can give you.” Lucretias face dropped. “I’m very sorry. If I change my mind, I will come to you, but for right now, I mustn’t. Please, understand.” Thankfully, Lucretia nodded, still sad, but sympathetically.  
“Please, don’t wait to long, Dug. You never know when the next wedding will be. My friends are all aching for rings and children. I just know you’d make any one of them very happy.”  
“Perhaps, “ Degory rose from the table. “But, not tomorrow night.” Politely, she dismissed herself and headed back up to bed. Waiting for the return of her visitor. All she needed was the complication of a young, desperate, love hungry woman hanging on her arm, with all the secrets she was holding. It would be fair to no one and she didn’t want to have to explain anything to anyone. Perhaps, thats why she’d been so driven to allow Silas in so fast; he never pressed her for her story. It was nice.  
Thats the kind of relationship she needed right now. One that just kept her tethered to the world, not exposed to it. If she were honest with herself, though, she’d admit that she was probably staying longer than she thought reasonable because of him. 

* * *  
Lucretia laid in the bed, beside her sleeping lover that night, admiring what she could see of his body, gently breathing in the moonlight. It was so easy for Silas to go to sleep after they exchanged affections. She wouldn’t mind if he held her longer before he drifted off. He felt so distant, so far away. All she wanted was a few minutes reminder that he was here, completely, with her. Perhaps she was asking a bit too much; she’d always been taught that, in bed, men are the primary focus. That this was something men wanted and needed. Her job was to lay back, respond to his requests, and grip at the bits of intimacy he offered her in those moments.  
Carefully, she ran his fingers through his hair, hoping to accidentally rouse him, but to no avail; he barely fussed. Though her disappointment, she reminded herself she was lucky. The man her sister had been wed to wasn’t exactly gentle, so she should be grateful to have a man that didn’t seem the type to hurt her.  
That was a blessing. She thought. You should hold onto this man.  
At that moment, once again, she heard the coughing in the hall. This time, it was more controlled; Degory was gradually getting better at hiding it. Slowly, she lowered her feet to the floor and pressed her ear to door, listening as Degory struggled to control their breathing.  
The poor man. I wonder what is haunting him.  
“Degory,” She whispered, pushing her way into the hall, gingerly. “Would you like me to fetch you some tea.” Coughing into their arm, Degory shook their head.  
“I’m fine, miss. Please, don’t fret over me. Return to bed.” She ignored Degory and inched her way to the door, inhaling deeply.  
“I smell that terrible smell, again.” Degory’s eyebrows raised.  
“You do?” She nodded.  
“Yes, the smoke and that butchery and pig roast smell….” She met Degory’s eyes in the darkness. “What on earth is it?” Degory sighed.  
“Merely a ghost from my past, Lucretia, dear. As I said, nothing for you to trouble yourself over.”  
“What do you mean, a ghost from your past?”  
“Just that.” Degory shrugged. “I’ve no idea where it could come from but my restless sleep. Its like… it’s like my nightmare has come alive to disrupt all our sleeps.” Duggary laughed. “As I said, my dear, this isn’t any concern of yours. I’m sure Silas is missing you about now.”  
“I doubt it.”  
“Whatever do you mean? He seems…. Rather keen on you.”  
“He is.It’s just… its nothing.”  
“You’ll pardon me, miss, but I did just share with you.” Lucretia gently fidgetted before she continued.  
“He’s a very kind man and for that I am grateful…”  
“However….”  
“Sometimes, he feels very far away. I’m not sure he loves me as I love him.”  
“Thats complete poppycock, my dear. Silas loves you dearly and truly.” Degory approached her. “Please, believe that. I’ve seen him with you. Please, don’t doubt his affections.” She wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but she found herself taking Degory’s hand and pulling them closer. The softness of Degorys cheek against her lips seemed to bring her out of her momentary revery. Quickly, she stepped back.  
“Thank you, Mr. Mauz. I hope you find second sleep more refreshing than the first.”  
“I pray you do as well, Miss.” Awkwardly, they both returned to their rooms.The click of their doors softly echoing through the hall.

Silas roused her the next morning, shaking the bed violently as he leaped to his feet. With a groan, she rolled onto her back and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.  
“Lucretia, dear, you don’t have to rise so early.” She prayed she could go back to sleep but she knew that was feeble now. His gentle kiss on her eyelid soothed any frustration she habored for being awakened so fiercely.  
She loved the way his hair flowed down is back when he set to grooming; blond curls flowed down his back, ready for the brush. The bouncing of his curls, sent dancing with the brush, would catch the sunlight from where he stood before the basin and its mirror.  
It was silly, she thought, the kiss in the dark she passed Degory. Certainly, he’d think of nothing of it and she didn’t need to dwell on it, but thinking about it set her heart thumping and she could feel her chest tighten; she felt she’d been untrue to her dearest Silas. The bold, tall, lightly colored, jolly man before her preparing a blade for his face.  
“What are you thinking of, dearest?” He asked, as their eyes met in the mirror.  
“Only of you and your big, strong arms holding me all night.” She smiled. “I fear, I’ll catch a cold for want of their warmth to return.” Face still wet and splotched with cream, he turned to her, a glint of trouble in his eyes; a playful threat to ravage her one last time before he left for the day. “We haven’t the time, love.” She said, her voice soft and loving with a hint of of disappointment she truly wish she felt.  
Lucretia rose from the bed to begin her own morning rituals; brushing and pinning her hair, patting on some color, and pulling her favorite blue dress back on. It was hard not to flinch and run to the door when she heard Degory’s door open. They were always early, but never ready before Silas and her. Before she could realize she’d been starring at the door, lost in thoughts of Degory, Silas spoke.  
“Probably just out heading out to the privy.” She felt his lips on her hairline and one of his big hands gently place themselves on her shoulder. “You know Dug., though. Always one for secrets.”  
“Yes.” Her voice faded a bit, wondering away with her. “Wait a moment,” Lucretia turned in her chair to face him; he’d wandered over to the bed, half dressed now, to strap on his boots. “He’s not the only one that keeps secrets.” Silas gave her a sad smile.  
“My dear, I tell you all you need to know.”  
“If you truly loved me, you’d want to share it all.” She argued.  
“And if you truly loved me, you’d ….” He stopped. Pointed finger in mid air, aimed accussingly at her, he staggered a bit, but thought better of it and dropped his arms down.  
“What were you going to say?”  
“Lets go have breakfast, dear. I’m famished.”  
“Not until you tell me what you were going to say.”  
“I was going to say…” He gave a deep sigh. “I was going to say that if you truly loved me, you’d let me protect you… and you wouldn’t make me do anything I don’t want to.”  
For a moment, they stood in silence, her still digesting what he had said to her.  
“Listen, Lucretia, love, I merely meant.”  
“I’m hungry, Silas. Lets go downstairs.” He didn’t argue, she thought, perhaps, he didn’t like arguing and certainly didn’t want to fight this battle. Silas simply gave her a gentle nod and opened the door for her. 

Degory didn’t want to have her breakfast with her ordinary company today. Something about the kiss she could still feel on her cheek made her feel she shouldn’t be around them this morning. It was only a simple peck, but, somehow, it felt like more and she wasn’t sure why. Between her ghost and the kiss the night before, she was beyond worn, but completely prepared to run the entire day on coffee, adrenaline, and sheer will.  
The lack of sleep, she knew, would eventually catch up to her and she was certain that was her ghosts plan all along. Make her long to sleep forever or simply drive her mad trying to. Death or insanity.  
The smell of the city and the slight chill in the air definitely helped her feel more awake and the salty sea air that filled her lungs felt cleansing and seemed to cover up the abominable smell of so many horses in a concentrated area. The smell of Mr. Harpers office, however, was another thing entirely.  
“Good morning, Mr. Harper.” She gave her boss a slight bow as she entered and removed her hat.  
“And to you, Mr. Mauz.” Always so cranky, his grumblings didn’t bother her anymore, it merely took a few days for her to realize, conclusively, that Mr. Harper liked no one and only enjoyed his own company. It was another day of going through the books the books she’d been entrusted with and she was hoping she could find something more she could to use to prove to the men they were being underpaid by their master as grossly as she believed.  
He kept the book himself, though, the wrinkly miser, so she assumed there was little chance of finding out and out proof there.  
As she busied herself with the pen at her desk, she found it hard to stay focused. Fatigue and worry ate at her fiercely; her mind was a dozen different places. Degory found herself, at one point, wondering if she had been missed at breakfast and how much…. And by whom. This thought didn’t occur until well into the morning, when the stomach pangs from missed breakfast tinkered around, groaning in her stomach.  
There was little more than tea and coffee splashing about in there now and it needed something of more substance. Another hour, Degory consoled herself, and she could steal away for some meat, veg, and ale down the street with the rest of the men. She’d been doing this for days in hopes the more they were around her, the more they may open up their circles to her, naturally. It hadn’t happened yet. Perhaps, on some primal level, they could smell the femininity on her and knew she was fraud. She’d never be accepted, if that were the truth, but Degory insisted on trying. After all, people have to belong somewhere, don’t they?  
Desperately, she watched the time, aching for each moment to past as the growls of her stomach grew louder, threatening to become a true beast and gnaw its way out of her belly.  
“I suppose you’re hungry.” Mr. Harper responded with his own growl.  
“You’ll pardon me, sir, but it about that time.” The old man nodded, not looking up from his book, and waved toward the door; shooing young Degory out of the office. Relief flushed through her as she stepped out onto the street, blending in with the rest of the men, off to fill their own gullets.  
“Oy, Dug!’ Startled, she whipped her head around to see Silas racing toward her. “You weren’t at breakfast.”  
“I came in early to work on the books more.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have. My stomach is positively aching for a bit of bread.”  
“For such a little thing, you sure are hungry a lot.” Degory laughed. “Where on earth do you put it?”  
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, she gave a pat at her trousers. Silas’ good natured response was a pat on the back and to push her forward through the street.  
More smells.  
How long had she been here? One of the greatest things about this city was all the different scents, nearly every street was its own bouquet. The smell of this place, though, was of everything she needed at that moment. Body aching, she clung to her food when it was brought like a starved animal.  
“Jesus, Dug. Slow down.” She did, but not by much. It’d been too long for her small form to go without food, she’d have to remember to never skip a meal again. “So, why did you come in early today?”  
“Looking for more clues. I know he keeps his own books, so its not likely I’ll find it there, but I have to keep looking.”  
“These people cant read, anyway, I’m certain that proof from those books wouldn’t sway any of these men.” Degory’s eyes followed the point of Silas’ foot as he gently pointed around the room with it.  
“I suppose not.” Her shoulders relaxed and leaned back into her chair, away from already nearly empty plate. “But I’ve got to do something.”  
“Of course you do, Dug, but I’m not sure….” At just that moment, a gift in a cape and a gentles cap walked in dawning a powdered peruke.  
“Mr. Melder, sir.” She rose, slowly approaching the well dressed gentleman.  
“Ah, you’re the man that works for Mr. Harper, Mr. Uh….”  
“Mauz. Sir, I’m Degory Mauz.” She offered her wrist. For a moment, he stared at it, as if confused, but accepted it just the same. “You’ll forgive me, Mr. Melder, but I didn’t realize you frequented this establishment.”  
“Only on occasion, Mr. Mauz, sir. My business sneds me all over the city, you see, enough for me to have chosen a few favorite places.”  
“Is that so, Mr. Melder?” She smiled. “Listen, my good man, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind settling something. You see, since you left the other day, its been quite bothersome to me.”  
“If I can help, Mr. Mauz, I’d be more than happy to.”  
“Ah, Good. See, I fear I may have greatly miscounted your payment.” She leaned in, giving him a faux whisper and gently leaning close to where a dock worker could hear. “Would you mind, terribly, looking up in your books what you were to give me, so I can compare my two counts. They were more than a little bit off.”  
“I don’t need to check, sir, I remember.”  
“You remember?”  
“Yes, Mr. Mauz, Mr. Harper and I have had an arrangement for a very long time.”  
“I see.”  
“It was 450 pounds.”  
“450 pounds. You’re sure?”  
“Quite sure.”  
“Well, thats what I got the last two times I counted, but the first two, I counted 565.” Mr. Melder gave a nervous laugh and brief look around, knowing full well they were in earshot of Mr. Harpers crew. At least one seemed interested, thankfully.  
“Well, I suppose your first two counts were mistaken.”  
“They must have been, sir, after all, I only left the money, but a moment with Mr. Harper, of all people, and why would he steal 115 pounds for his own company when he could use it to better pay his dockmen. Seems a bit … inadvisably to me.”  
“I would agree.” Mr. Melder spoke slowly, before dismissing himself, obviously uncomfortable with the company.  
“Have a lovely day, sir.”  
“And you.”  
Degory said nothing about Melders quick exit and how he hadn’t even eaten before rushing out. In her periphery, she watched the table near start buzzing a bit; she’d planted the seed.  
Of course, she knew, they’d not have a hard believing a man such as Harper would be stealing like that. All she needed was for them to hear.  
Returning to the table, she smiled at Silas.  
“I may have created a problem for Mr. Harper.” He returned the smile.  
“And what do you think will happen from here?” Degory shrugged, returning to her meal.  
“Now, we wait. I’m sure they’ll be reasonable.”  
“So many of them have families; this could get ugly.”  
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d be angry in their situation. I see them work all day, I’ve even worked with them. They work so hard, they shouldn’t be struggling so much.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

Lucretia has spent most of the morning sitting in bed reading the Bible. It made her feel so sad. The book that sat on her lap, closed now, was telling her what she was doing and how she was living was wrong. Maybe it was right. She knew many other women who were intimate with their beau before marriage, but never so early and they never lived with them.  
Yet, here she was; far from home with no real family anymore, living with a man in sin. How ashamed her mother would be and she sadly wondered what her sister may think and how her brother would look at her.  
Done with reading, she set it aside and found her box beneath the bed that held her sewing. Ignoring the tears that were gathering in her eyes, she set to work on the new shirt she decided to surprise Silas with very soon. Maybe she longed to run a household; for Silas to make an honorable woman out of her, but shouldn’t that make her happy? Shouldn’t she want to press Silas to make their relationship more respectable? The truth was, she didn’t.  
She didn’t ache to be Mrs. Cole.  
She thought back to her friends and their partners, many were all a tingle with anticipation. It was their great aspiration. Her mother always told her that, in marriage, happiness was a choice, perhaps, that’s all she had to do; choose to be happy.  
Lucretia sighed; her thoughts drifting from Silas to Degory. So small, so gentle, so quiet.  
She’d immediately liked them, though, she didn’t know why.  
It was something about Degorys nature.  
With a man so tall and strong as Silas, Lucretia thought, why would she be spending so much time thinking of another man. What could such a small man as Degory ever provide her. The gentle feel of Degorys cheek on her lips was there again, as plainly and as strongly as it had been that night. If she aches for anything, it was to be that close again with them. The more she thought about it the more she realized that that stolen moment in the dark had been unfaithfulness to Silas. Not for the act itself, but for how it may her feel; as if her heart had become unhinged and was fighting to be released from her chest.  
Her mind drifted were she dare not allow it before; to how it may feel in Degory’s arm. They weren’t large and thick, not like Silas; they were just as sturdy looking, but smaller and more delicate. She wondered how Dugs lips would feel against heres, they looked so soft and the most lovely rose shade. Her thoughts traveled on to skin on skin; sins she thought, God may never forgive her for. She didn’t notice her breath had gone heavy and more rapid or that she was gently shaking until the pin pricked her.  
The sudden pain and sight of blood tore her from her revery violently. The yip from her lips was more of surprise than that of pain, but was so very loud, she worried someone may come knocking.  
Few people asked questions in Taverns but, particularly the keeper, found keeping women safe a primary objective. She’d say a bird nearly flew into the window, she thought, of the truth; she’d been daydreaming and scared herself. There was not a soul there but she felt felt the gentle heat of a blush appear on her cheeks. Abit huffy and unhappy with her current task, she gently set the shirt aside. There must be another way to utilize her time than sit in this small room, reading the same book over and over and sewing. Maybe she’d take a walk and see what abuses she may have to endure if she stayed here longer. If Silas ever did choose to make her honest, she’d ask him to move her away from here. No one needed to know how their relationship began.  
Suddenly, a familiar smell crawled into her nose; so strong, it was positively begging her attention. It was the smell she’d only caught in Degory rooms. The smell of flame, ash, and burnt flesh. Slowly, she rose to her feet and gingerly opened her door.  
She saw no smoke, no flame, heard no screams or other sounds of distress. It was a small, silent, and empty corridor between her door and Degorys. Tentatively, she stepped forward and placed her ear on the door. There was nothing to be heard, but it was hot to the touch. Her ear lobe, she feared, would be a deep red for a while. Lucretia studied the door, there was nothing unusual about it. If there was truly a fire, the door wouldn’t be there long, for certain, but there was no smoke. No smoke anywhere to be seen.  
Lucretia wondered again but Degory meant by “ghosts from my past” and thought, for the first time, it might not be a lie, and it may be literal. 

The walk home was a bit longer that day, Degory and Silas took a different route, hoping to see more of the city and watch the gossip fly.  
“And they say that women are the more gossipy creatures.” She quipped, shaking her head as she watch a small group of men race to another, frantically spreading the news of Mr. Harper.  
“Well, perhaps we have more in common than we’d like to believe.” Degory couldn’t help but smile at that.  
“Indeed. I’d certainly like to think so.” Maybe that was why it was easy for some of the others to see her as a man… she dressed as a man, why wouldn’t she be a man? Tiny or not, perhaps that was just how God made “him”. She couldn’t be the only five foot man in existence. Maybe some of the others had seen others her size. It was certainly a thrill to see all the men flittering around the street, like large, tired, and angry birds after some scattered bread or seed.  
“They’re not very happy.” A group of men were off to the side, shouting. Probably fueled by some access alcohol.  
“I can see that.” It was a surprise, but she worried someone may end up hurt, or worse, dead. That was never her plan. “I do hope that this doesn’t end to terribly. I just want them get paid a reasonable amount.”  
“I wouldn’t blame yourself if this ends poorly, you are not in control of another mans actions.” Degory felt her face twitch.  
“Either way, Silas, I fear I may be taken to ill to work tomorrow.”  
“Perhaps that would be best.” Silas mumbled. “We needed join the men in whatever violent means they intend to settle this disagreement.” The sight of a few muskets appearing sent a chill down her spine.  
“Do you believe they may intending to …”  
“Anything is possible, but I pray it doesn’t come to that.” Silas consoled her. Dropping her head, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the men.  
“I feel like, if he dies, it would be my fault.” Degory whispered, leaning against a building in an alleyway. “It wouldn’t be right, and you know that, too. I wanted them to know so they’d do something to compel him to pay them better and treat them a little better, not kill him.” Biting her lip, she looked up into Silas’ eyes, pleading. “How should I fix this?” He thought a moment.  
“We’ll have to make sure we’re there before them in the morning. I don’t think they’ll be harassing him at night.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m not certain of anything except they have muskets.”  
“I wonder where he lives?”  
“The men say he use to live above the office.” Silas pressed on toward the Tavern they were staying in. “But, he built a house outside of the city not too long ago. Now, he only sleeps there if he works too late.”  
“How far outside the city?”  
“It takes him an hour on horse to get in each day, I believe.”  
“Maybe I should go out there for the evening.” Silas turned to her, questioningly. “Just to make certain theres no trouble.”  
“You think being seen at Mr. Harpers house in the middle of the night is going to be any help to you with all the jokes they’ve been saying about you.”  
“I’m quite familiar.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought at their insinuations that she do anything remotely sexual with such a disgusting old man. This revulsion , though primarilly because of his appearance , was only inflamed by his poor moral character.  
“Listen, its best to just keep your distance. Be taken ill tomorrow and hide out in the Tavern. I’m certain Lucretia would be keen to keep you company and I can tell you everything that happens when I return.”  
“Silas….”  
“Dug, please, trust me.” He stopped again and looked her square in the eye with his piercing blue eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt and thats exactly what would happen if you show up and especially if you try to protect Mr. Harper. They’ll tear you apart like a pack of wild dogs.” Thought deeply offended, Degory agreed. She would be no match for those large men that toiled away on the docks;most were very tall, all were strong, and none of them but Silas seemed to like her very much. Starring at her shoes, she liked her lips and nodded.  
“Fine. I’ll stay behind tomorrow.” She sighed. “But, you must tell me everything that went on when you return. Everything!” Degory demanded, pointing at Silas.  
“Of course, Degory, you have my word.” Silas gave Degory a pat on the shoulder and pulled him forward. “I’m famished right now, though, friend. Let’s go eat. I’m certain Lucretia is growing restless.”  
“Do you plan to marry her?” Degory asked, after a brief pause.  
“I’d like to make her honest.” He smiled. “But, I fear I’ve nothing to give her yet. I’m saving up for a ring and some land so I can care for her properly.”  
“On our salary, how do you manage?”  
“It’s slow in coming.” He frowned. “But, it’s moving along. I just want to be worthy of a woman like her.”  
“She’s staying in your bed, Silas.” She argued. “What people must be saying about her….”Degory shook her head. “She must love you if she’s willing to endure this degradation of her reputation. She’d more than likely have to leave to find another suitor.”  
“I know she must be dealing with much, but so am I’m trying to set money aside, I’m keeping her fed, and a roof over her head…. I just.. can’t give her what she deserves yet. That’s… It torments me deeply.” He seemed to wince and refused to make eye contact as they continued to walk down the narrow street.  
“Have you told her?” She asked, carefully and quietly.  
“No.”  
“May I ask why?” He scoffed.  
“What on earth would I say, Dug?”  
“What you just told me.”  
“Sure and I’m certain she would understand.” He couldn’t help but sound bitter and sarcastic.  
“You may be underestimating her; selling her short. If she truly loves you, she will understand.”  
“How would you know?” She wanted to tell him ‘because I’m a woman and I would understand, I would still marry a man like you’ but instead she said  
“Because love is like that, Silas. If you truly love someone, you will endure the unimaginable to be by their side and you’d accept having to endure it together.”  
“Thats not been my experience, friend, all due respect. I believe you are very much a romantic. I say, Dug, every day, I learn more and more about what goes on that tiny little head of yours and everyday it amuses and delights me.”  
“I enjoy being your friend, too, Silas.”  
“I dare say, I ought to try to keep a better eye on my dear Lucretia.”  
“Whys that?”  
“Because if she had an inkling of that soft, mushy heart of yours, she’d leave me for sure.”  
“I wouldn’t be so certain of that. Look at you? Tall, broad shoulders, youre well kept and fairly well read for a dock worker, in fact, I’m shocked you even entertained the idea of working there.”  
“Well, I didn’t really want the life that I left.” He breathed. “I wanted something simpler, quieter…. That made me feel like a man.”  
“Pray tell, what were you doing before.” Her friend winced at the question.  
“I was… I was keeping my fathers books.”  
“I see.” She nodded. “Its not that that can’t be mans work, Degory… I just … I needed something more physical, something more… Something more primal, I suppose.”  
“Any work can truly be mans work, Silas, if a man does it.” Silas laughed.”I’m serious. Women cook at home, but at this Tarverns about it, at all those pubs around the world, its a man cooking and… all of a sudden, its mans work.”  
“Well, thats different.”  
“You’re right, one is paid for the services.”  
.”Thats not what I mean at all.”  
“Then what do you mean?”  
“I mean, one cooks for a family they tend to and are responsible for, as is their nature, and the other is cooking for drunken men and whores in a out of the way den of sin.”  
“They’re truly not that different. Have you seen a child, Silas? I mean, really seen them? God love them, bless them, and keep them, but they, themselves, are just as unkempt as a pub of drunken seamen.” Silas laughed and rolled his eyes.  
“Are you to say, my dearest friend, you do not to create a family of your own?”  
“I’m simply saying that, just as working for your father keeping his books was not your dream or ambition, creating new life isn’t necessarily mine. I do fear this war thats begun will leave many orphans, though, and, if given the choice, I’d much rather open up my home to them than have a child of my own seed.”  
“Interesting. I’ll have to talk to Lucretia about that. I’m sure she’d love the idea.”  
“Indeed, most women wish to and live to nurture.”  
“Yes, its the one gift God bestow upon them that I wish more of us men had been blessed with.”  
Walking into the Tavern, they saw Lucretia waiting for them, looking relieved and a touch pale.  
“Silas, Degory, where have you been?”  
:Sorry, love.” Silas accepted her hug, wrapping her in his large arms and planting a kiss on her cheek. “We took the long way. Dug here started a bit of talk within the men and we wanted to see how it played out.”  
“Talk?”  
“Our boss is stealing and underpaying.” Dugery whispered, leaning close to Lucretias ear.  
“What?” She asked.  
“Its true.” Silas said, leading Lucretia to the table where Dug had already sat.  
“Its not at all uncommon.” Degory smiled up at the Tavern Keeper as he brought out their bowls of stew. “I just didn’t expect the boys to be so ready for violence so soon.”  
“Given the times we’re living in, Dug, I should say you shouldn’t that surprised at all.” Lucretia leaned into Silas and pulled him closer. “With all thats been going on, you should have been careful with your knowledge. I’m sure there would have been another way, better than whatever way you chose.”  
“I simply let them hear me confront one of our bosses partners, is all.”  
“Couldn’t you have shown them or something else? Thats really short sighted.”  
:Lucretia, dear, we knew they’d be angry, not violent. A few of the men seemed to be gathering their muskets.”  
“They mean to kill him?” Lucretia whispered in horror.  
“We don’t know that, but they’re certainly planning to threaten him.”  
“Lucretia, dear, I will tell you that our good friend, Dug, is a bit unwell. I thought perhaps, tomowrrow, you could nurse him back to health and sit with him while I’m gone.” She glanced to Degory, catching the message.  
“Of course, wouldn’t want to leave an ill friend alone. Company helps the time go faster.” Silas smiled to Dug, who seemed to blush a bit.  
“I would very much appreciate it, Lucretia. Perhaps having company for the day would do you well, too.” Lucretia nodded.  
“I… I do think it would be nice.” Her smile was small, and she made sure not to maintain eye contact and quickly turned back to her beau and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Please, do promise me you will stay safe.”  
“I promise, my dear Lucretia, I shan’t get involved unless necessary.”  
“You shouldn’t get involved at all.” She insisted. Without much fanfare, Degory left the lovers to their evening and her made her way up the stairs to her room, not expecting to hear urgent footsteps behind her. “Degory.” Lucretia hissed in the darkness.  
“What is it?”  
“I wanted you to know… earlier today, I… I smelled the smell again.” Degory stepped back.  
“When?”  
“This afternoon, right before lunch.”  
“Was there any smoke?”  
“No, but the door felt hot, which I found… unsettling.” With a determined, stony face, Dug approached the door, when Lucretia followed, she made sure to push the taller woman behind her. She wasn’t certain what she would see, but there was no reason for Lucretia to come to any harm. Slowly she opened the door before them. “Good god!” Degory was quick to hush her. The drawers in the desk were out, anything with them was cast onto the floor. The blankets were also disheveled and cast aside, but, what really disturbed Degory was the clothes she had when she got there. Everything else was disturbed and thrown about, but the trousers and mens blouse were folded, neatly, on the desk chair. “What do we do?”  
“We do nothing, Lucretia.”  
“But, “  
“There’s nothing to be done, please, go back downstairs. I’ll see you in the morning.” Degory began putting around in the dimly lit room; the sun was going down for the evening.  
“I should bring you your breakfast.” She paused and stared up at Lucretia as she gathered a book and few sparse writing materials off the floor. “You wouldn’t want to chance Mr. Harper or any of the other men catching wind of you looking in good health.” Degory nodded.  
“Right, of course not.” Without another word, Lucretia gave a slight of her head and left her alone in the room. Alone in the room where she knew that her ghostly stalker was hiding somewhere in one of the dark corners of the room. Unseen and, for the moment, unsmelled, waiting for her to retire to bed.  
She knew he was coming, even as she changed into the large shirt to sleep, she knew he was waiting for her. With a huge gulp, she slowly lowered herself into the, now, properly made bed beneath the sheets and waited for sleep to take her and for him to show himself to her again.  
Sometime, in the darkest hour of the night, a gentle tapping awoke her. It was coming from the wall. A gentle, repeated, but somehow still urgent rap behind her bed. Slowly, she rose and placed her hand on the wall, trying to feel the vibration and find the source.  
Degory lowered herself onto the floor, still guiding her hand along the wall, trying to follow the noise. She could feel little grains of dirt and the like beneath her knees as she crawled around and it took several moments to realize that it was coming from beneath her bed. Degory rose and walked over to the desk, opting to light a candle to get a better look beneath the furniture. It was hard to keep her breath and hand steady as she did, the chorus of thumping still playing in the background. On her knees, she leaned over to get a good look.  
Nothing.  
Not at first. She could see straight through to the other side and there was nothing there. A bit confused, she rocked back onto her knees and realized the noise had stopped. Whatever it was had gone silent.  
For several moments, Dug sat in the dark. Allowing the silence to embrace her and her breath to steady. All of a sudden through, the bed fiercely lifted off the ground and hit the floor with a loud thump, pulling a short scream directly from her chest. She didn’t want to check. Deep down, she knew, this time, the bottom of the bed would not be empty. As she leaned over, she saw him, finally. Hiding in the darkness, waiting for her. The cold burning took her voice away as his freeze hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her underneath with him. She could feel his peeling, torched face against hers; layer of skin peeling away onto hers. As she struggled, she felt her body knock over the candle and, as she lay through in the dark, his body on top of hers, burning with that fierce, biting cold, the room began to fill to smoke and fire. Still, he sat. One hand on her throat, the other over her mouth, his red eyes glaring at her in the darkness. This was what her wanted, she thought, he wanted to take her this one. To burn her, with fire or ice, and drag her down to hell with him. She felt a tear begin to develop in the corner of her eye, bid forth, mostly, by the pierce of his stare. The smoke began to fill her lungs through his icy fingers and she could feel herself begin to choke, crying out for clean air. She dug her nails into his hands, feeling the skin crack beneath them and the juices from his grotesque body dampen her fingertips. She pleaded with her eyes, choking and gasping, freeing a hand to bang on the bed in hopes of making noise someone would hear so they would come save her.  
She was going to die. Degory couldn’t move to break his icy hold on her neck and she was going to die. The world, once smoky and unclear, was quickly fading away from her completely. She felt her nail release from the wood above her head and everything turned black.

I guess this love. Lucretia thought to herself, looking up at Silas in the morning light. I guess this is what everyone writes those books about. The ones I’m not suppose to read. This is what it is.  
As his eyes fluttered open, she made sure to smile up at him.  
“Good morning, beautiful.”  
“Good morning, love.” She cooed.  
“Did you sleep well?’  
No, she thought, but she nodded just the same.  
“The sound of your heartbeat is like a lullabye.” Your snoring, however…  
“Ah, love. I do so enjoy our mornings together.” After giving her a chaste kiss, he rose to his feet and began his morning routine. For a bit, Lucretia only looked on. When she knew he was nearly done, however, she followed suit, performing her own morning rituals.  
This is love. She told herself. You love him.  
“I’m famished, love.” He planted another peck on her cheek. “Lets head downstairs, maybe Dug is already down there.” Lucretia shook her head.  
“No, he isn’t. I haven’t heard him and I asked him to wait for me to bring him his breakfast this morning.” She explained.  
“When did you do this?”  
“When you went out to the privy and he was heading up to bed.” He seemed bothered by something, she wasn’t going to ask what. “Well…” She said, “lets go, I’m going to feel a bit faint soon if I don’t eat anything and I don’t want to make Degory wait to awful long for his own food.”  
Silas opened the door with a small smile… it looked a bit sad or otherwise distressed to her, and placed his arm around her to guide her down the stairs.  
This is love. It has to be. What else could it possibly be?

Degory woke up, beneath her bed, gasping for air. She coughed as air finally filled her lungs and rolled over onto her stomach in the tight space, fearing she may vomit. Alas, there was nothing in her stomach to throw up. Embarrassingly, she found, she was rolling about in her own urine. The attack last night had scared her so terribly, she was unable to hold it back. She would have to at least rinse the shirt and pray it would be dry by that evening. Clumsily, she drug herself out from beneath the bed, blinded by the sunlight and disoriented by what she had endured, Degory made a conscious decision to not cry and hurriedly changed her clothes instead, using the old shirt to mop up the little that remained of her puddle.  
There was still water in her basin, though, now, it had cold, it would do to remove the odor of her bodily secretions. Shaking a bit, she began to push it about, roughly, almost angrily. Never before had she felt so many feelings all at once. Anger, sadness, fear, confusion,... she wasn’t sure of what else to do but swallow them down like some ill tasting medicine. Maybe, she hoped, that would do her some good or poison her from the inside.  
By the time the knock came at the door, she wasn’t entirely satisfied with her work, but it would have to do. There was no other real choice but to let it dry and hope for the best. She knew who it must be, but had forgotten the plans until Lucretia had come to the door.  
“Come in.” She said softly, opening it before her guest.  
“I brought up some eggs, a muffin, and some jam.” Lucretia smiled, walking past her and into the room. When she met the bed post, she stopped, observing the mess at the basin and the wet shirt, slung over the side of the desk chair. “You know, I could wash that properly for you.”  
“I… uh,... I would appreciate that.” Briskly, Degory walked up to her and accepted the small plate she held. “I just didn’t have the proper things.”  
“Well, Silas needs a set of his clothes washed.” Lucretia mused. “I’m beginning to be offended by his scent.” Politely, Degory chuckled between hungrily shoveling eggs into her mouth. “Why on earth is it so cold in your room?”  
“I told you why.” It took her a few minutes to remember.  
“A ghost?”  
“Please, don’t think me mad.”  
“I don’t think you mad, Degory, I think you ill and its probably thanks to this chilly room.”  
“It wouldn’t be this cold otherwise.Look,” Degory pointed out the window. “The sun shines directly into this window in the morning and the fireplace maybe down stairs, but its not far off enough from my room to cause such a chill.”  
“So, you genuinely believe its a ghost.” Degory turned away and bit her lip as she smeared some jam on half her biscuit. “I know it. You don’t have to believe me, just don’t think me mad.”  
“Ok.” For a moment, Lucretia looked around the room, observing the few things that Degory had. “So, where did you come from?”It took Degory a few moments to remember.  
“The Ohio Country.”  
“Why did you come here?’  
“A new life.” Degory hadn’t meant to speak with her mouth full, she apologized after she swallowed the bite of biscuit and jam. “I just ended up here. I don’t know if I’ll stay.”  
“You could always join the war effort.”  
“Honestly, Silas is the one that should join the war effort, I’m not sure what use I would be.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Silas says that my size may be give me an edge; that I may fill some niche that the rest of the army may not be able to.”  
“He may be right.” Lucretia shrugged.  
“I honestly doubt it, but it makes me feel better to think so.”  
“So, you haven’t joined the army because of your size?” No, I haven’t joined the army because I’m not a man and would have no idea what I’m doing and I’d almost certainly die.  
“Yes.” She lied.  
“I think Silas is scared.” Degory nearly choked on a bite of her food before swiveling around to face Lucretia again. “Why should Silas be scared?”  
“Its war, Degory, I think most of the men are scared.” She adjusted on the bed and crossed her legs. “At least the smart ones. The rest are fools and brutes.”  
“So, are you saying you think we’re smart… for staying out of the war?” Lucretia bit her lip as she glanced down to her shoes.  
“I think you’re smart but I also think a good man fights for what is right. You can be smart but most smart people lack bravery because they know the risks. You could do so much good, Degory, you and Silas, and neither of you seem to know.”  
“Have you talked to him about this?”  
“Only the first night. I asked what a man as strong as him was doing here when he could be fighting and he brushed it off.”  
“Are you a Loyalist or a Patriot, Lucretia?” Degory asked.  
“I’m not sure its proper for a woman to opinions on such matters.”  
“But, you can have an opinion on what it means to be a man? To define bravery and the best course of actions a man could take?” She scoffed and turned back to her food. “If you’re smart enough to have an opinion on what makes a good man you are certainly smart enough to decide how you feel about the war.” She took another bite of biscuit, the last bite, and found herself talking through it again. “This war will affect you, too. I mean, do you want to marry.” Quietly, Lucretia nodded. “Have children?” A more confused nod. “Live here, on this side of the Atlantic?” Another nod. “Then how, pray tell, does it not affect you? War affects trade which affects what you can afford and where you can afford to live and where and how you will raise, clothe, and feed your children. Good god, Lucretia, if anything, women may be more affected by this war because the well being of a woman depends on the well being of the men around her, how they are paid, how much, and what is available to take advantage of.” Degory realized, suddenly, that she had been raising her voice. She couldn’t remember the last time she truly raised her voice or spoke of her own opinion on things. Degory realized, at that moment, that she felt how she did because, when she was a woman, no one asked her thoughts or feeling on any subject and she always wanted them to and, now, here she was, speaking to a woman who believed her a man and asking her opinion of the world around here, something she always ached to speak on, and Lucretia claimed to have no opinion at all.  
“You sound like you think me mad now.” Degory sighed, met her eyes, and responded more calmly.  
“I do not think you mad, Lucretia, quite the contrary, I find you a victim of the world in which you live.”  
“How do you mean?’  
“We live in a world where the men make all the rules, where they decide what everyone can and cannot do. That’s why we’re fighting in the first place. A man made decisions on our behalf we did not like. Men rule this world, but we’re not the only one who have to live in it. Women and children do, too.” Lucretia considered this.  
“I am not sure I ever thought about it. It was just the way things where.”  
“Women go from their fathers house to their husbands house, never on their own. But, men, often, do live on their own.” Degory finished the last bite of egg and continued. “We have our problems; we’re expected to be a certain, like certain things, and work hard to provide for a family and prove ourselves. Being a man had its own set of difficulties. But, we have more vocation than women. More choices. Its a burden and a blessing, but it should be shared.”  
“I don’t think I’ve heard many men speak of women this way.” Because you’ve never met anyone who lived as both.  
“I grew up with a sister and my mother had to do a lot on her own.” She lied, but Lucretia nodded. “So, I’ve seen the struggle of a woman without a man in this world.”  
“I really think, Degory, that you should fight.”  
“Why?” She scoffed.  
“That passion you have, your intelligence… those are your strengths. You’d make an amazing soldier.” Degory blushed.  
“Soldiers have to do many things I cannot.” Lucretia shrugged.  
“I think you’d manage. You may have to do things a little differently, it might take you a bit longer to do others, but I could see you being a great soldier.”  
“You give me far too much credit, my dear.”  
“No, I think you give yourself far too little.” Degory couldn’t help but smile and she knew she was still blushing. She didn’t feel very much like she was in her own body at the moment; she wished she had met Lucretia before, it would have served her well to have a friend like her.  
Maybe she was built to be alone. Maybe she was built to be lonely and never understood. Who knew, either way, that’s what she had become. Thinking back, she very well may have been born that way. “Tell me about this ghost.”  
“What?”  
“This creature you claim comes at night and leaves your room so cold. The one that threw all your things about yesterday.”  
“Honestly, Lu, its not that interesting.” Lucretia moved back, eyebrow drifting up a moment. “Sorry, what did I say?”  
“Only my brother ever called me Lu.”  
“Oh, I didn’t mean to…”  
“No,” She insisted. “No, Dug, it was nice. I liked it.”  
“Ok, Lu.” Dropping her head a bit, she could feel her cheeks pinken. It was silent for a moment, she could feel Lucretia lean closer to her from her spot on her bed. Degory didn’t realize how close she was, though, until she raised her eyes to meet Lucretias and felt her breath on the space just above her lip. It was welcoming and moist, each exhale sunk into her core and warm her from within. She ached to taste her tongue, to wrap her arms around her and tangle her fingers in her dark hair, but she knew better. “Thank you.”  
“For what?” Lucretia asked, dazed.  
“For bringing me breakfast.” Degory smiled and leaned away from the plump lips that bid her to bite them. “So, what should we do now?” Lucretia appeared to swallow hard and her eyes flitted away for a moment, darting back with a less lustful look.  
“I believe there’s chess downstairs. Do you play?” With a laugh, Degory shook her head.  
“Never once in my life, but, didn’t you bring me breakfast so we wouldn’t be seen downstairs?” Lucretia bit her lip.  
“You’re right.” She thought for a moment. “I can bring you up the paper to read and I’ll work on Silas shirt.” Lucretia gestured to the still soaked garmet drapped over the chair. “I can take that as well, I’ll wash it tomorrow.” Lucretia accepted the shirt and left, leaving a hint of what Degory believed must have been perfume in the air; no one could smell that sweet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

Silas wasn’t exactly sure what he would be in for today, but he was relieved that Degory had stayed behind. Even before he approached the street, he could hear the men shouting and knew there was trouble.  
When he finally approached the crowd outside, he decided to just simply observe. The men were angry and loud, but he didn’t see a single musket yet. He deeply hoped there were none, but knew he was wrong. Someone in this crowd, or many someones, was definitely armed. It wouldn’t matter who if the bullets started flying, the entire scene would descend into chaos. 

“Mr. Harper,” one of the younger, more viral men shouted at the building, glaring at the windows on the second floor. “If you are a true man, you’ll come out and face us. We simply want what is owed to us.” A chorus of agreeing shouts concurred.  
“We’d be better off fighting in Washingtons War.”  
Angry, strong, and under paid were never a good mix. A few men began pounding on the door. At some point, he was sure he heard glass break, but it took several moments that it came from the building.  
“If you won’t come out willingly, we’ll smoke you out, you rascal!”  
A group of men were readying tar, he saw and quickly glanced around to find the feathers. Mr Harper was old and feeble. Sure, he deserved the horrid verbal abuses but the burns from the tar may kill him.  
“Shite.” He muttered, pushing his way to the front, preparing to take the young mans place on the crate to address the group. Silas wasn’t sure what he would he say or if he could sway the men away from their blood thirsty rage and soioth them at all, but still, he climbed the top of the crate and stood the young man and raised his arms. “Please, men! I beg you….” A hush fell over the group. “This man deserves to be punished and you all deserve your due, but I see some of you, brandishing weapons and tar and I must say… are we not better than this? Must we burn down the entire house because the soil isn’t working? No, you move the garden first. Mr. Harper needs to move his garden and invest more in you, his men, but he does not deserve this level of mistreatment.” There was silence a bit longer, but it was soon broken by an old, tired, looking man with a long white beard. He stepped forward, glanced up a Silas a moment, he wondered, perhaps, if he had managed to find an ally. That was soon proved to be false. The old man reared back and flung forward a discolored lump of mucus and spittle at Silas’ feet. In response, the crowd was roaring once more; pounding at the door to break its glass and he could hear the breaking of more glass as well, he knew it was the windows. With a sigh, he climbed down, wondering how on earth to stop this. He hoped, desperately, the Mr. Toole had fled, but there was no sign either way.  
The old miser was a coward, but he wasn’t as smart as he fancied himself. Sadly, surveying the destruction, he wondered what course of action he should take. At that moment, he saw a tree in the back of the building. The branches reached out over a small rock fence and straight to the window upstairs. Careful to make sure he saw no one watching, he slipped away and began to climb the tree. Mr. Toole would not die today, if he had any say. The fence took him a good way up the trunk, enough so, that he could reach a sturdy branch and pull himself up. It was like a ladder. It took him back to his youth, this tree climbing, he hadn’t really imagined all those years scaling and falling out of the trees that lined the farm he grew up on would ever pay off. On this day, though, it was a valuable skill.  
As he became level with the window, he tested the strength of the branch that reached it. Unsatisfied with his obvious limitations, he sighed and decided he may have to jump. The branch could take him out so far, but he would need jump out to the sill. Straddling the branch, he reached out and found he could lift the window up; Mr. Toole had not nailed it closed.  
It was hard to pull the window up too awful far, but it was high enough, he thought, to slip his fingers underneath. After a deep breath, he launched himself at the window and only exhaled upon feeling his fingers crasp the ledge. Relief flooded through him, but he knew it wasn’t over; he wasn’t inside yet. Carefully, he held on with one hand, slipped the other underneath the window, and pushed it up enough to bring his body through. It wasn’t easy, he straned, faultered, nearly fell, but finally projecting himself through the window and onto the floor, he let out a laugh. It’d been a long while since he was that scared for his own life. Rising to his feet, he surveyed the room. It was empty, save a disheveled bed, a dirty oil lamp that wasn’t likely the safest to use, and a few sparce other thing strewed about. It was obvious Mr. Toole had moved out, and moving into what would have been the main living area only drove that home. It was empty, too. The small kitchen couldn’t have been very easy for Mrs. Toole to work in. He felt a bit sorry for her. Finding the hall, he continued to search for his employer. Closets, a broken wardrobe, the few other rooms in the building where all as abandoned as the last.  
Toole wasn’t here.  
Perhaps this was good news. Perhaps it was not, either way, as he sat in the stair case waiting and debating as to whether to inform the mob they were petitioning an empty building, he heard the hinges of the door finally give way. 

Degory didn’t do much reading of the paper the Lucretia had brought her, she was more taken with watching her sew. She wasn’t sure if she missed it, after all, she was never terrible at it, but it was never one of her favorite things to do; it was simply another choir that was her responsibility to perform.  
“Anything interest going on in the world?” Lucretia asked.  
“Nothing to terribly interesting.” She shrugged. “Unless you court war deaths as interesting.” Lucretia tightened her jaw.  
“I see.”  
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Degory offered, setting the paper down beside her on Silas’ and Lucretias bed.  
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”  
“Ok.” She leaned back against the bed post and returned the paper to her lap. “What do you think Silas is doing right now?”  
“Hopefully, nothing too dangerous. This world has enough killings in it with the war, we don’t need a riot on the docks.” She seemed to shudder.  
“I agree. This world certainly has gone mad.”  
“Maybe not so much mad as fed up with mistreatment.” Degory felt her eyebrows raise, but kept her eyes fixed on the paper, letting Lucretia talk. “People can only take so much abuse before they feel nothing but rage and take up arms. Thats where the destruction comes from, Dug.” Lucretia shook her head and fiddled a bit with the thread she was using. “Mistreating each other. It isn’t that hard to be kind.”  
“I think I agree, Lu. Most accidents and acts of violence wouldn’t happen at all if one party was not treated poorly. Its pain that makes us cry out and lash out and reach out… because we want out of whatever box its confined us to.” Lucretia stopped her sewing and looked up at Dug, who had hidden herself behind the paper by now.  
“Right.” She smiled, grimacing a bit. “I’m… uh, I’m going to head out to the necessary.” After Lu left, Dug let the paper drop to the floor. Perhaps she shouldn’t have done that. Perhaps she had tapped into the secret language women speak only to each other and Lucretia had instantly recognized it. Dug could argue, though, perhaps she was just thrown off by herself for saying so much and with Dug for so fully agree with her. It was hard to tell. She could only hope that she didn’t have to run again so soon, she didn’t even know where to go because nowhere really seemed all that safe anymore.  
You need to stop. She thought. Silas was enough, you need to stop reaching out to people like this, opening yourself like this… it’ll only end badly.  
She felt a twisting pain in her heart at that thought. The thought she was safest alone. That she was safest just wandering from city to city, hiding as a man, and praying never to be recognized. Of course, this told her that her life would end poorly.  
Thump.  
The sound seemed to echo in the hall outside the door. Cautiously, she rose and tiptoed to listen better. It must be another guest, she was certain, but it was so hard to tell. Slowly, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall. It was empty, it was quite, but she could smell that smell again.  
Thump.  
It was undeniably from her room this time. She swallowed down her fear and the weight of it on her shoulders and pressed forward toward it.  
Thump. Thump….. Thump. Thump.  
It began to mimic a heartbeat to her. He enjoyed torturing her, she knew, but she also beginning to shed some of the guilt she felt. Maybe he sensed that. Maybe he could smell it on her like she could smell his burnt flesh and the smoke he brought with him. Reaching out to turn the knob, the heat of the metal took her aback. It’d been warm before but never this hot.  
Thump thump…. Thump thump.  
The sound continued to mock her on the other side of the door. She shed the jacket she was wearing and placed it over her hand to make the heat let painful so she could throw open the door. A flood of smoke poured into the hall, filling her lungs and making her cough.  
“Dug!” She heard Lucretia call from the top of the stairs.  
“In here!”  
“Why on earth would you go in there?”  
“Because I need to see if theres a real fire this time or just all this!”  
“Oh, my god!” She followed in, coughing. “Its so thick!”  
“It always is.” Degory pushed her to wall where the sound was still coming.  
Thump Thump …. Thump Thump  
“Whats that, now?”  
“Its him.”  
“Him who?” With a hard swallow, she finished choking and asnwered simply.  
“My ghost, Lu.” The moment she pressed her hand to the wall, feeling the vibration of a final knock, the smoke disappeared and they were alone in the room again.  
“Its colder than it was this morning.” Was all Lucretia could muster, Degory nodded.  
“Well, that was him. Always so cold.”  
“Who is he?”  
“No one. Well, not anymore. Just a living nightmare.” Degory cleared her throat. “I was in the middle of an interesting article and I believe you were finishing up Silas’ new shirt, right? Lets go.” Lucretia didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t stunned by what she just saw.  
“Satan himself was just in this room, Dug, and you want to do back to reading now?”  
“He wasn’t Satan, Lu, I can promise you that.”  
“Some sort of Demon is stalking you, Dug, this is not of God.”  
“You’re right, it isn’t, but its not Satan or one of his Fallen Angels,... .its a ghost.”  
“Whos ghost?!”  
“A man I use to know who is long gone now, ok? He’s just angry.”  
“How can you be so calm about this?”  
“You’ve been pretty calm about it until now, Lu, what changed?” Lucretia stepped back a moment and shook her head. If Dug wasn’t mistaken, she thought she might have seen a single tear welling up in one of her eyes.  
“You’re right, Dug… Lets go back to what we were doing. It’s over now, anyway.”

“What are you doing in here?” One of the men demanded, standing in front of Silas as he sat on the stairs.  
“I came in to find him.”  
“You mean to hide him from us.”  
“No, I meant to keep him from your hot tar and feathers and muskets.” Silas insisted, rising to his feet. He would not be intimidated by these animals. “You’re free to check the building. I couldn’t find him.”  
“Lies. You probably helped him out “  
“And how would I do that?”  
“However you got in.”  
“Mr. Toole could not of climbed down a tree, my good man.” He sighed and stepped off the stairs and into the office. “You can check, turn this place upside down. I promise. Mr. Toole is not here. At least not as far as I can tell.” The men pushed up the stairs and Silas waited. Sat on one of the desks, he listened as the sounds of furniture banged and a million other smaller things hit the floor with their own chorus of bangs. They would be angry, he knew, and he wondered if they would lash out at him, they already were very quick to blame him for Mr Harper being gone. What was in store for him? Would he have to fight men off to keep them from tarring and feathering him?  
A few moments later, a few of the men reappeared.  
“Where’d he hid him?” The one he knew as Lawrence demanded.  
“I’ve not hidden him, I told you.”  
“Then where’d he go?”  
“I’ve no idea, John, are you certain he even came into work today?”  
“Lee said he saw him come in.” John turned to the third man.  
“I did see him come in.” The younger man insisted. “I chased him to the door!”  
“Well,” Silas lifted himself off the desk. “He’s nowhere to be found now. Maybe he found a way to slip out.”  
“Or maybe you’re lying and have him in some hiding spot somewhere.” Lee insisted.  
“I didn’t want to hid him, I wanted you all to be able to talk so you get what you’re owed. If he ran or he’s hiding, thats not going to happen.”  
“Liar.” John insisted, seeing Lee’s distress.  
“Where are you hiding him?” Lee stepped into Silas space, attempting to threaten him. It was a nice try, Lee nearly met his eyes, but he a few inches shorter than him. Silas stepped forward, staring the younger man down.  
“I give you my word, Lee. I did not hide him.” They held each others gaze for another few moments, before Lee backed down.  
“Well,if we can’t find Harper, his lackey will do.” He said, taking Silas by the collar.  
“Lackey, sir? I beg your pardon!”  
“Not you!” Lee insisted as Silas shrugged off his fierce grip. “That tiny imp he keeps in here.”  
“Yeah, who he sends out to try to push us around for him.” John quipped.  
“Degory had not to do with any of this. In fact, you wouldn’t even know of Harpers sins without him, would you? He’s the one that showed you.”  
“No, we heard him talking to that business man about the money.”  
“Yes, and he made sure you heard it. He made sure you knew. You know you were cheated because Degory stood up for you and made one of the men Harper works with confess that he was paying him off.”  
The men seemed to consider this a moment, but in the end, they pushed Silas ahead again.  
“Take us to him.” Lee insisted, John and the old man concurred with grunts and the gaggle of other men all cheered. Silas wasn’t sure what else to do, he figured, perhaps they could take the longer way, the one that he and Degory took yesterday and it may give him time to make a plan to protect Degory from this hoard of angry men.  
The dirt roads beneath his feet seemed dirtier somehow, more riddled with horse shit and smelled even worse than they looked. Maybe it was the fact that mid day was finally approaching and the sun was getting high and warming the ground. Its not like he often left the docks in the middle of the late morning.  
As they walked on, the men behind him pushing him on, no one who saw this stopped them. Which irritated him. Having no allies was a problem. The only good thing was that one of the roads has a few alley ways off of them. Smaller roads that bHarperd a lot of the sunlight. He needed to distract them and make a get away. Run to Degory and warn him. Maybe they could just leave. Create a little chaos and let it sort itself out.  
As if he had bid it so, before on of the streets, there were some crates. It was right behind another Tavern, so it made sense, it was just like magic, though. He couldn’t believe it. As they approached it, he knew he had to act fast. Without hesitation, he elbowed Lee in the nose and rushed to toss the boxes and crates in their way before speeding down the alleyway.  
He just needed to get to Degory and Lucretia.  
He couldn’t believe how fast he could run, given he didn’t run often, and it didn’t take him very long to make it to their Tavern. Racing up the stairs, he called out.  
“Lucretia!” Out of breath, he stopped for a moment in the hall.  
“What, Silas,what happened?”  
“We’re…. We’re leaving.”  
“What?”Degory asked from behind Lucretia.  
“Grab your things, whatever you have.”  
“Why, Silas?”  
“Well, we’re not welcome here anymore.”  
“What happened?”  
“Degory, just grab your things.” He shouted. Degory looked shocked and Silas realized he had never raised his voice to this friend before. “Please, Dug. Trust me.” Dug gave a nod and fled to the other room.  
“What happened?” Lucretia insisted, again, as she began gathering her own personal items.  
“I think they mean to kill Dug.”  
“What?”  
“They think he had something to do with all this.”  
“Wasn’t he the one that…”  
“Yes! Thats whats so messed up, but they’re all so fired up now and couldn’t find Toole, so they’re blaming Degory.”  
“They would kill him over this when it should be obvious Harpers been doing this for ages.” She shook her head.  
“I agree, but theres no talking sense into them. They were trying to make me bring them to Degory. I had to make a break and run.”  
“I’m ready.” Degory announced from the doorway.  
“Good, take this.” He passed Dug another small bag to go with their own. “We need to head out.”  
“I have a horse in the stables.”  
“As do I. Lucretia, do you have a horse.” She shook her head. “Then you can share with me. Lets go.”  
As they left the building and made for the stables, they could hear the collection of the ten or dock worked making their way down the road, they hadn’t been that far behind Silas, he realized. 

Degory hated this. Though she had considered doing this, she imagined it would be on her own, dragging her two friends along only filled her with guilt and made her stomach feel as though it had tied itself in knots.  
You’ll either get hurt or be hurt. She thought, making friends is a bad idea. You should really walk this road alone.  
Swallowing hard, she entered the stable house just behind Silas, she hated to be telling Marco he’d have to run again and she hoped that, if horses had that capacity, he’d forgive her.  
“I’m so sorry, Marco.” She whispered as she began putting his saddle on. “But, we’re going to have to run, again. The men I work with must have gone crazy. I heard my friend Silas tell Lucretia that they want to kill me.” Marco winnied. “I know, men wanting me dead isn’t that new, but this is more than just one.” Finally mounted on her stead, she glanced over to see how Silas and Lu were doing in time to watch Silas pull her up on his horse.  
“Are you ready, Dug?” She nodded and followed him out into the road. Wondering where this road could possibly lead them.  
“No!” She shouted. “Not west.” Realizing they were headed back the way she came, she insisted. “We should head north. There are more cities that way, just villages and the like the further west you go.” Silas appeared confused, but nodded in response and followed her as she turned Marco the other direction. At this rate, maybe a more populous area would give her even more opportunities. Maybe these two would find a life of their own, away from her, where she could do no damage to them or them to her and she could go about her business…. Whatever she decided that business ought to be. Either way, going back would never be an option. She feared a noose or a stake awaited her that way… or something worse. Besides, she already had the ghost that followed her about everywhere. She didn’t need to be abused by an entire village.  
There was nothing for her there now but death.  
She shuddered thinking about the place she once called home. As they exited the city, she rode up beside them.  
“You know, you probably won’t have to stay away too awful long. Give it a little time and things will probably cool down.”  
“That might be true, Dug, but what would you do?” Lucretia asked, Degory shrugged.  
“I’ll find a way.” She answered, honestly not knowing what she would do. “I mean, in a city, I’m sure I’ll find something to do with myself.”  
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, Dug. Right now, we just want to make sure you’re safe.”  
“Silas, do you really think running is best?” She asked.  
“Those men where ready to tar and feather and possibly shoot Harper.”H eexplained. “I don’t want to see what they may want to do to you.”  
“This is mad.” Lucretia shook her head. “All this because he was trying to do the right thing.”  
“They’re too angry to think straight right now. Dug may be right. Let it cool down a bit and we might be able to return.”  
“Maybe I should talk to them.”  
“No, Dug. Thats not very safe for you. Emotions are too high right now.” He didn’t look over to her as he spoke, his eyes were fixed on the road before him. “Maybe we can come back in a few days, or maybe we should wait longer.”  
“This might be premature.” Dug continued. “I mean, maybe speaking to them will do some good.”  
“I tried that.”  
“But, I didn’t, Silas.”  
“I beg of you, Dug, just come with us. Leave, let things cool down. Let the smoke clear.” Degory didn’t like this. She was fine running for her life when needed, but she wasn’t sure it was necassary in this case; she hadn’t seen the men but once. Sure, they looked angry, but the wounds were still fresh. Maybe there was something she could say or do that would fix things. Leaving another place that she could never return to made her frustrated and sad.  
“I just hate running.” She explained.  
“I know, so do I. But, its for your safety… and mine, frankly. Those men, if we meet up again, they’ll know I brought you away and tried to hid you. They thought I hid Harper for god sakes.”  
“They thought you hid Harper?” Lucretia asked.  
“Yes, I broke into the office before they did, looking for him. I didn’t want them to kill him. So, I went in hoping to protect him. And he wasn’t there, so when they came in and found me and not him, they suspected I had him hidden away somewhere.”  
Degory held her tongue the rest of the way into the woods. She was too deep in thought. Where they would end up, she didn’t know, but she certainly hoped she wouldn’t be chased away again. The guilt still sat in her stomach like lead and seemed to grow in weight the further away they traveled. The deeper into the woods they got, the more the trees seemed to close in on them and the more haunted it felt. There was a strange chill in the air she only knew from her nightly guest. It was like a heavy, cold, cloak sitting on her shoulder. One she couldn’t take off, and, at times, the string seemed to tighten, making it hard to breath.  
This was her life, she thought, to wander the world without a true home. To hide in this world that should be her home and never as herself. Not if she wished to make anything of herself and survive.  
“Should we use different names when we find somewhere?” Degory asked.  
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Silas argued.  
“Maybe he’s right, love.” Lucretia spoke up. “If we’re not too far away, one of them may find us.”  
“Well then, lets not stop too soon.” Degory swallowed hard, she didn’t want to share that running wasn’t anything new to her. The forest continued to close on her, making her feel boxed in and take her breath away.  
“We’ll have to stop somewhere in the next few hours, we’ll be hungry.”  
“Well, Lucretia, I’m certain Degory and I could find something to eat.”  
“With what weapons?” Degory asked, bulking at Silas’ eagerness to volunteer her to hunt. She supposed it was a mans job, she was through with being volunteered for things and not asked, it was one of the things she enjoyed about being seen as a man; people were more likely to ask rather than volunteer you,... depending on the situation.  
“Well, I’m certain we can figure something out, the Indians certain have.”  
“So, your plain is, without having ever constructed one before, to find the materials and fassen together a bow and arrow or a tomahawk?” She couldn’t help sounding bitter, Silas, she was convinced, was a fearful little boy trying to prove himself a man in this moment.  
“We will figure it out, have faith.”  
“Faith!” Degory objected and pulled Marco in front of her friends stead. “Why exactly are we running,Silas?” His jaw dropped, perhaps he’d never been confronted like this before. “You were very quick to run away, I think, is there something you’re not telling us?”  
“I told you all…”  
“Truly, Silas, all?” Her eyebrows were raised, she felt, like her voice, stern and demanding.  
“The men want to cause you harm, possibly hurt you and maybe even me. I’ve told you….”  
“So, we run? Just like that?”  
“Dug, I fear….”  
“Thats exactly it, isn’t it, Silas? You fear. You’re afraid.” A shade of red Degory was certain he had never seen before on her friend appeared on his cheeks. Whether this flame was lit by anger or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure.  
“Gentlemen, please,” Lucretia pleaded from her seat between them. “I beg of you, don’t fight.”  
“Fine.” Degory grunted and turned Marco back around, taking the lead through the woods. Maybe this was best, maybe it was a good idea for her to move on anyway, she just had no idea she’d be bringing anyone with her. 

The next few hours were quiet. No one wanted to speak. Whether they were angry or choked by the contention that hung thick in the air like soup they had they to swim through, it depended. As time went on, the scent of her stalker became even stronger, she could feel it singe her nose hairs and bit and it made her sneeze. She glanced over at Lucretia. Could she smell it, too? What about Silas? Had he ever smelled it?  
Existence was treading water right now, thanks to the only two men still in her life. That was all men had been good for in the past for her. They just created tension, pain, and confusion. Maybe life would be better without them, or maybe she would never truly escape men.  
Who knew.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

Lucretia wasn’t sure she’d get any sleep that night. Silas and Degory fighting had upset her stomach. She’d not been so upset since she was small and heard her family fighting. This was a family, she supposed. A small and strange one, but a family nonetheless. Silas and Degory had managed to get a squirrel and a rabbit for the meal that night. It was a huge relief to see food, although she long for the pies and stews at the tavern they’d left. Degory had her more worried than Silas. Silas seemed to be able to sleep anywhere. Feet from the fire, he lay on his horse, thighs to hers, as she sat, staring at the flames.  
Across the fire, Degory lay. She was certain their eyes were open, staring at the sky.  
“Degory.” She whispered and a small, quiet grunt responded. “Are you having trouble sleeping, too?” With a heavy sigh, she watched Dug sit up, though still leaning against Marco, she’d learned his name was.  
“I am.” As carefully as possibly, so as not to rouse Silas, she rose up and walked over to sit with her friend.  
“I’m sorry you two were fighting today.” She said, softly.  
“Its fine.” Degory cleared their throat. “I just felt he was rushing things a bit. We should have made certain we needed to leave before rushing off, tail between our legs.”  
“Dug, you must admit, these are violent times. Shootings in the streets, battles in our own backyards… its chaos…. You can’t really blame Silas for wanting to make sure we were all safe.” She bit her lip. “He was worried for himself, too. He said those men were ready to assault Mr. Harper.”  
“I heard him. I just wish I could have tried first, I quess. Its no matter now, we’ll find another town, spend a night or two there, and move on until we find a city, I suppose.”  
“Why a city?”  
“More people. Its easier to not be found when there are so many people in a small area.”  
“I’m not sure he has a plan.”  
“He thinks he does, but its fine. I have my own plans. You’re welcome to come along or stay behind. Its no matter.” Degory must have seen the glint of disappointment and surprise in her eyes, because they followed up with. “Of course, I’d like you to come. I just don’t want you to feel obligated. You owe me nothing. If our paths are to divert away from each other, than thats how it must be.”  
“What is your plan?”  
“Go to a city and find a job.”  
“Then what?”  
“Live.”  
“Well, I mean, you don’t have any dreams or asperations? What of the war? Doesn’t that scare you? When all this is over, what will become of us?”  
“Honestly, my dear, I doubt very much it’ll change our daily lives.”  
“Won’t you fight, though.”  
“ I do not long to die at the point of a bayonet.”  
“But, don’t you long to right wrongs and make the world a better place?”  
“I suppose I do, but there are many ways to do that.”  
“And the best way is to fight.”  
“Why are you so adamant about this? Is Silas going to join the war effort?” She shrugged. “He’s said nothing?”  
“Not to me.”  
“I wonder why not. I wonder why he’s not already fighting. I mean, look at him?”  
“I know, he’s tall, handsome, and ruggid, he’d make an amazing soldier.”  
“Not like me.”  
“I still don’t understand why you’re so down on yourself about your height.” Degory winced. “I think it makes you special and unique. Not many men at all are your height.”  
“I know.” Because I’m not a man. “I suppose its a blessing and a curse.”  
“You’re a funny little man, Dug, you know that, right?”  
“I suppose I am.” She laughed a bit, holding her tongue from letting out a feminine giggle. “Hey, you know what I’ve been meaning to ask?”  
“What?”  
“When we first left the town and made our way into the woods…. Did you… did you smell my ghost.” Lucretia shook her head.  
“You did?”  
“Yes. The darker it got, the stronger the scent got.”  
“So, you think he followed you out here?”  
“Perhaps.” She didn’t want to worry her. “But, its too soon to tell. May have just been my imagination, the forest can be big, dark, and intimidating, after all.”  
“Thats true. I use to have nightmares about the forest behind my house.”  
“Truly?”  
“Yes, nearly every night. I’d wake up crying and my sister would be so cross with me.” She laughed. It was like a little bell in the air. So merry and sweet. She loved it. She’d have to make Lucretia laugh again soon.  
“Did she do anything to sooth you?”  
“She’d tell me a story. This ridiculous story of a tale, brave, blonde knight chasing the witch in the forest back to the bowels of hell and carrying me off to marry me.” Another giggle.  
“And do you think you’ve found your knight?” Lucretia met her eyes. Degory could feel them looking deep into her.  
“I believe I have.” Dug wasn’t sure when they’d moved so close, but she had been aquitely aware of it, not until she felt their noses brush each other did she fully realize just how close they were. The soft breath, again, she could feel gently moving the hairs on her barely existent mustache. We’re moving closer, Degory thought, feeling the tip of her nose hit Lucretias cheek. What are we doing?  
Before she could find out, Silas let out a terrible snore, like some mythical beast, crying out into the night. The girls jump and flew away from each other, only to turn back to each other and laugh.  
That was close. That was more than close, really, that was dangerous.  
“Its so good have a friend like you, Dug. I didn’t have many until I met you two gentlemen.”  
“Well, I’m happy to have your friendship.” Degory brought her hand to her lips and gave it a gentle kiss. “You, my lady, are very dear to me. Like a sister.”  
“And you are like the older brother I never got to have.” They stayed up the rest of the night, just chatting. About Silas, about the war, what they were hoping to find when they stopped. Never more about their family and the life they left behind. Somehow, Degory thought, she felt she had finally found a home.It was warm and sad at the same time.  
The next morning, awoken by the sun and the frying of why was left of the rabbit from last night, Duagry realized her arm was around Lucretia and they had laid together all night.  
Awkwardly, she removed her arm and rushed off into the woods, without a word to relieve herself. This is precarious, she thought, trying to figure out how best to make sure no one walked up on her. This is awful. The feel of bark scratching her behind was never how she wanted to begin the day. It was certain this would be a long one and she prayed this was the worst of it.  
Returning to the little camp they had set up, she tried to pretend everything was normal; that she hadn’t just woken up beside her only friends beau and that she hadn’t just had to shit in the forest like a wild animal.  
She missed the privy. She missed a good chamber pot. But, most of all, she missed her pitcher and basin. She felt far dirtier having slept in the dirt using a horse as a pillow then in sleeping in any bed. Most of the morning was silent. Probably because of the lack of coffee. Degory desperitely hoped they would find a Tavern today. She did not enjoy sleeping outdoors. It just wasn’t for her. Besides, it was cold.  
“We should go now.” Without a word, they grabbed the few things they’d brought, made sure there horses had something to eat and rode off.  
“I’m sorry I was so angry with you yesterday, Silas.”  
“Don’t worry about it.”  
“Why shouldn’t I worry?”  
“Because we’re friends.”  
“I suppose we are, but that doesn’t mean you have to forgive me.”  
“Listen, when I make a friend, they’re not just a friend, they’re my brother. You’re my brother, Dug. I trust you. And sometimes brothers argue. It just comes with the territory. They fight like cats and dogs, but it doesn’t and should never mean, that they don’t love each other.” It took a few moments for Degory to swallow this. The depth of Silas’ loyalty was deffinitely interest to her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experience unconditional affection before. It made him charming to her once more. From coward to comrade overnight, with merely a simple comment. She smiled at this thought. Words and actions were so powerful. They create bonds and they start wars. This was no different.  
“Have you any idea why we are?” Lucretia asked quietly, yawning and leaning into Silas.  
“Not for certain, love. Just that we’re heading north.”  
“We may reach Boston soon… as in, if not tonight the next day or so.” Degory chipped. She didn’t want to admit she had been geography books when she was still seen as a woman in her former life, but now, she found it was fine and, in fact, useful. “I don’t believe it was too awful far, if I recall correctly.”  
“I think you’re right, Dub. We weren’t too far South of it.”  
“I’m not so sure about Boston, I don’t think its a very safe place.”  
“Lucretia, dear,” Degory spoke up. “I don’t believe anywhere is very safe right now. In Boston, there will be more opportunities for Silas and me to make a life.” Lucretia bit her lip before releasing it to exhale.  
“I guess I’m just nervous. I’m never been this far away from where I grew up.”  
“We’re all pretty far from where we came from.” Silas gave her a small kiss on the forehead.  
“Either way, a tavern will be nice. Some real food and a nice bed.” Degory looked away and swallowed hard.  
“I’m not sure sleeping on the ground another night would agree with me.” Lucretia chuckled.  
“Well, lets try to make time.” With a smile, Silas brought his horse to a brisker trot.  
“Lets not run down the horses, SIlas, they’re carried us most of yesterday.” Degory shouted. Seeing Silas didn’t intend to slow down, she curse and gave Marco a bit of a kick, a signal to run to catch up. Once she was neck to neck with them, she allowed Marco to slow to their pace. “I’m not sure that was responsible, but I suppose the horses look no worse for were.”  
“Ah, Jerry here was made for it.” Silas gave his horse a pat.  
“Perhaps thats true, but we don’t know how long we’ll need them to hold out.” She argued. “I don’t want to run them too hard.” Silas nodded.  
“Very well, we’ll trot a bit, lessen the pace for a while, and then let them rest.”  
“Do you think they’re even chasing up?” Lucretia asked, hesitantly.  
“I very much doubt that.” Degory answered.  
“I still think its unwise to turn back.”  
“We know, SIlas, so we’re pressing on.”  
“To Boston!” He shouted, making Dug and Lu laugh.  
“To Boston!” They echoed, fists in air.  
If Degory was honest, she hated riding most of the time. She always worried about the comfort of the animal beneath her; did she weigh too much, was she bearing down on them to much, making them work too hard? It was a constant anxiety to her if she had ridden any real distance. Discretely, as they rode along, she’d glance down to check Marco for any signs of distress she could think of and give him a loving pat.  
“You’re doing so well, Marco. Thank you.” She’d whisper every time. At one point, she thought that Lucretia had caught her doing this and they both quickly returned their eyes to what was before them. The look they exchanged made her think of last night. Lucretias face lit only by firelight, her soft whispers through the dim light, the feel of her legs brushing against hers,  
“For warmth” she’d said. Degory wondered it that was a lie, but she couldn’t be certain, it was definitely chilly last night, she was surprised none of them seemed to have caught a cold in the night.  
Perhaps it was luck. Maybe the fire lasted long enough and kept them warm enough to fight back any fever or chill. Who could really tell at this point.  
Maybe they saved each other. Absentmindedly, she passed Lucretia a smile. As she returned her gaze, it was her turn to turn away, the gentle warmth of a blush on her cheeks… not that disimilar to the warmth of Lucretias hand on her bare face “I want to make sure you’re not catching a chill” she’d said. Maybe that wasn’t lie. But, how could she tell?  
This was going to be a long day. She thought to herself, again, as they slowed back down to a leisurely trot.  
“How far away do you think we may be, Silas?” Degory asked.  
“If we’re lucky, we’ll be there by nightfall, if not, the morning.”  
“Ok.” She glanced down at Marco, “Please, forgive me if this hurts you in any way.” She cleared her throat. “Lets cover a little more ground, run them a bit, then we’ll take a short rest.” Silas smiled like an overexcited child. He must have been aching for this.  
“Want to race to the road?” He pointed off into the distance, maybe a mile ahead.  
“Sure.” She said, already happily running Marco ahead. As Degory raced past them, she heard Lucretia protest, fussy a bit against Silas adjusting her before he trotted off, barely catching up with her for all the foliage off the path. Degory feared a bit for Marco but also trusted him deeply and knew they would win as she heard the sound of dirt clop underneath her steads hooves, she hooted and threw her arms up just as Silas pulled up beside her.  
“Not fair, you had a head start and I have an extra rider.”  
“You gentlemen are mad!’ Silas and Degory exchanged muffled laughs. “I’ve never nearly fallen off a horse!”  
“Lucretia, dear, you were fine, I had you.” Silas reassured her, pulling her close and giving her a kiss on the cheek. While they bickered a bit, Degory realized that she smelled the smell again. The awful smell he sent to her when he was around. To singe her nose hairs and make her eyes well up with tears. It was getting worse. Stronger, more putrid, still smelled of smoke and ash. It was an awful smell. It existed only to remind her that he was close, that he had never left her. What a terrible thought. All she’d ever wanted was freedom, to be happy, to have those around her happy… and she felt, deep down that that would never be true.  
It grew quiet when they stopped bickering, she liked the silence, but it felt uneasy to her. Like a silent warning. She figured that, perhaps, she should start talking.  
“Silas,” She began. “I’ve been wondering… why haven’t you joined the army?”  
“Well,” he stopped to clear his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “I just think we need good men back home, too. I mean, so many men are going off to fight in Washington wars, and thats great, but they’re leaving things behind that only a man can do.” She wasn’t sure why he was lying, but she could sense he wasn’t being completely truthful. “Besides, there are other ways to help the war effort. We can’t leave all the mens work up to the women and children, can we?”  
“Some women have proved themselves apt at running the farms while their husbands are away.” Lucretia quipped.  
“That may be true, but that doesn’t change the fact that she should not have to.” Degory chewed on this a bit.  
“So,... you’re saying that you see opportunity for yourself in other men going off to fight?”  
“Yes.” He shrugged. “Don’t you? I mean, why else didn’t you join the army.”  
“I didn’t join the army because of my size.”  
“Well, age and size didn’t stop a great number of men from signing up and going off to fight. Why is a good excuse for you and mine is not? I could be building a career while other men are out their dying.”  
“Or you could be helping defend and build a nation. We don’t know what will happen after the war, how do you it won’t be for not?” Degory asked.  
“How do we know the war isn’t for not? All we know is we’re at war right now and its a mess. Things don’t really look good either way. So why risk my life for a flag and a country that may never exist?”  
“Because its the right thing to do.”  
“Listen, Dug, if you feel so strongly about it, why don’t you sign up? They’re always looking for able bodied men.”  
“I will if you will.” Silas stopped and met his eyes. “Soon as we get to the next city and find a way to join, if you sign up, I’m with you.” She could feel her heart beating in her throat, what was she saying? This was madness.  
“Alright, then, fine.” He relented. “We’ll join together.” Biting her lip, she leaned over Marco and stretched her hand out to Silas. Reluctantly, he took her wrist and they shook on it. 

Degory wasn’t sure if the buildings she saw before her in the moonlight or a hallucination born from the regret of agreeing to join the army and convincing Silas to continuing riding through the night.  
“Is… Are we here?” She asked, hesitant to believe the ride was over. Silas nodded, a sleeping Lucretia laying against him in his arms. “Alright, Marco. Lets find you a place to sleep first.” She whispered, patting him on the chest. He gave a muffled whinny and pulled ahead, seeming to understand what she was saying. “He must be tired and hungry, too.” She chuckled, glancing back to SIlas.  
“I wouldn’t doubt it. It was a longer trip for him, I’m certain.”  
It didn’t take her long to find a carriage house and arrange for his stay, if only for a short time. It wasn’t like she planned to stay here long, given the agreement she had made with SIlas. The depths of madness she never thought she’d visit. Maybe in living as a man, she was completely becoming a new person, in every way. Shaking the vision from her head of her genitalia changing form, she met up with SIlas, who was rousing a groggy Lucretia from her much needed sleep.  
“Are we here?” She yawned.  
“It sure looks that way.” He whispered, sweetly. “We’re going to go find a bed and food, darling.” Stretching a bit, she adjusted so he could dismount first and help her down.  
“How long was I asleep?”  
“Just a few hours, love.” He took her hand and lead the way out of the stalls. Degory licked her lips again and buried her hands in her pockets before turning her face toward the ground and following them out.  
“We shouldn’t be too far from a Tavern here,” Degory assured Lucretia, who was looking a bit overwhelmed by the large place in the lamp light. “Its a city and this is the main drag.” She gave Lucretia a friendly pat on the shoulder as they walked up the street.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place so… large.” She gasped. “What do they all do here?”  
“Live.” Degory quipped. She turned to face her, questioningly, but Degory could only return a shrug. “Thats all anyone does anywhere outside of a grave.”  
“Thats a bit morbid, Dug.” Silas gaffawed.  
“Seeing as I’m about to go off to war with you, Silas, I see no reason to be chipper. Especially not after riding so long.” She twisted her face and gave her butt a rub. “I definitely require a bed. I may be less disagreeable after a good sleep.”  
“I do hope so.” Silas was still so chipper, how could he be so chipper? Also, why on earth did seeing her friends like this, his arm around her, gripping her hip,... make her so uncomfortable. There was an aching in her stomach, a knot on her arse, and a deep yearning to push Silas away. She must just be tired.  
They didn’t have to walk very far to find a Tavern. It looked nice and clean, so they decided to stay the night at the very least. They split a single room with two beds. At the desk, Silas pretended he and Lucretia were married… perhaps to save her embarrassment, and introduce her as Lucretias brother. Words never tasted so bitter as turning to Lucretia and calling her ‘sister’. It tasted much like vinegar. The thought of sleep called to her like a siren as she rounded the stairs behind her friends. Perhaps, she thought again, sleep would clear her head.

The gentle wrapping of a singular tree branch tapping at the window had gently roused her from her slumber. Degory wasn’t sure it was the tapping itself or if it had lost some rythem it had had had that had drug her back into consciousness. With a gentle groan, she rolled over beneath the quilt, from back to belly, in hopes of returning to her dream. It was pleasant. She was back home in the field behind her parents farm house, picking flowers. She had fashioned a flower crown in the sunlight of the bright green meadow. Her maroon dress was flowing in the breeze as she danced, preparing to crown herself before the trees, cows, and sheep. Whatever she was queen of, she wasn’t sure, only that she wanted to be adored and felt adored in that moment.  
Only to find her reality was a bleak, though nicely Tavern, that was poorly heated and she was laying across from her two friends who she was irritated with, though she couldn’t remember why.  
Kicking around under the blankets, trying to get comfortable again, Degory gripped at the pillow and sighed into the darkness. She was certain it was her imagination when she first felt it. Some errant breeze ruffling at the bed covers, but that was before she felt the depth of its coldness… the solidness of it. Terror rendered her paralyzed. Maybe, she thought, if she didn’t move, it would go away. It wasn’t real, but if it was, playing dead was the only course of action her panicked brain could think of at that moment. Slowly, she could feel the fingers, traveling up the blanket, running down her ankle; searching for the joint. It was teasing her. Searching for a pulse there, waiting for it to reach a certain height before acting. Up and down the cold finger tip traced her leg. Degory knew it was coming, knew this wasn’t a bluff. With as much care as she could, she reached up and wrapped her own hands around the bar in the headboard of her bed then, she held her breath and she prayed. All the prayers she could remember her mother forcing her to learn for Mass, every scrap of Latin she could recall, she whispered out into the dark.  
When it slithered away, she let her eyes flutter back open, not realizing how tightly she had held them closed. Her voice fell silent and her grip loosened. That was when he grabbed her. 

Lucretia sat up, barely awake, gasping for air. Every single breath was a fight. The air was smokey and tasted of ash. Unable to see much, instinctually, she threw herself onto the ground. Belly to the dirty wood floor, she looked around, planning an escape route. Across the room, underneath their own bed, she could see Degory. Unconscious beneath the bed they’d been laying on.  
Still fighting for air, Lucretia squirmed across the floor, not wanting to leave without them.  
“Dug.” She coughed, pulling at their arm. “Dug!” When she pulled her hand back, she realized it was wet with blood. Degory was injured somehow. She gave another panic tugged at Dugs arm before they finally turned to her, eyes wide in the darkness, and a gasping inhaled released from them as they reached out for her hand.  
As Degory choked for air, Lucretia realized the smoke was clearing. It didn’t dissappear all at once, but it was slowly falling away.  
“Dug.” She rubbed Dugs arm. “Dug, tell me what happened?”  
“He came back.” Still breathing heavy, Degory drug themselves out from underneath the bed.  
“That was your ghost?” Degory nodded.  
“Is Silas ok?” Lucretia hadn’t realized that, in her panic, she’d forgotten about him. Pausing for a moment to listen, the sound of his muffelled snore reassured her..  
“He sounds fine.” She whispered.  
“Good.” Degory rubbed at their shirt collar. “I need a drink.” They didn’t take the steadiest of first steps, but soon seemed to have their balance. Opening the door, Degory disappeared into the hallway. “Wait.” Lucretia hissed in the darkness, scrambling to her own feet. “Im coming with you.”  
When they made it into the hall, filled with the ticking of a single clock and candle light,, Lucretia could see that their eyes were a bit bloodshot and watery. “I don’t want you wandering about alone after that.” Degory gave her a sad smile before leading the way down the narrow staircase.  
“Do you know the time?” Degory asked.  
“I believe the hall clock said about three in the morning.”  
“I was hoping I’d finally sleep straight through a night, I suppose I was wrong, I’m only sorry I woke you, too.”  
“It’s fine.” The tired half smile Degory past her told her that they appreciated it.  
“Still, Lu. I hate be a bother to other people like that. It’s an unfair poistion to put you in.” Degory went on. “This is my demon to contend with. Not your.”  
“I’m your friend, Dug. It’s my burden to bare, too. I want you to be ok.”  
“I’m fine.”  
“No, you’re not.” There was a brief silence between them, Degory glancing down at the floor. Luckily, the Tavern master was still downstairs and was able to procure an ale for Dugery.  
“Any relationship should be give and take.” They began, staring down into their drink. “If I am a friend to you, Lucretia, I should do anything but take from you… I should give as well… and what have I given you but trouble?”  
“You are a good friend. I don’t think you understand that. You are a kind, soft spoken man who tries to do the right thing all the time.”  
“Oh, how I wish that were true.” Degory took a long swig of the ale. “I’m just trying to make life as easy for myself as I possibly can.”  
“You make yourself sound like such a bad person.”  
“Bad is subjective, so is good. But, I really wouldn’t fit anyones definition of good; not truly.”  
“What makes you so certain you’re not good?”  
“What makes you so certain I am good?” Lucretia wasn’t sure how to answer that, instead, so shifted her weight between her feet and cast her eyes down to her shoes. “I’m going to try to sleep again.” Degory said after a few awkward moments before taking a final swig of the ale and heading back up the stairs.  
Deciding she should finally follow, she rushed up the stairs behind them, not wanting to be left on dark stairs alone.  
To her surprise and frustration, Silas was still quietly snoring away. In the beginning, she’d found the noise comforting, but now it scared her. The smoke had woken her up, but this man who was suppose to love and protect her, had slept through the entire thing.  
Suddenly, laying next to him didn’t feel as safe as it once had.

Degory did manage to fall asleep, but only for a few hours. The sunlight had awakened her, not gently or soothingly in anyway, but a bit violently. The light had stung her eyes through their lids, giving her a headache.  
Food should help. She thought, knowing most of it could be hunger. Having not eaten her fill the night before, her stomach to upset to manage much, she had resigned herself to wait until breakfast this morning. The ale hadn’t helped. It was sloshing around in her bladder, threatening to break through without her consent. Grumply an explicive, she got to her feet and dressed to head out to the privy.  
The chill of the wind wrapped itself around her, immediately, as she exited the warmth of the tavern. She could only say she was grateful that it wasn’t snowing. It was cold enough with a blanket of wet, white, muck covering her path. As she continued her short trek, she couldn’t help thinking about scarves and mittens. Maybe she should buy some. She knew how to make them, but with people thinking she was a man, that just wouldn’t be proper. Maybe she could ask Lucretia to make them. After all, maybe she was as skilled with knitting as she was with sewing. Silas shirt had come out beautifully, though Degory hadn’t seen him in it yet.  
In the end, she didn’t care how she got them, only that she did. Being barely even winter yet, it wasn’t going to be a good one. Not by any measure.  
Somehow, the walk back felt further than the walk to the outhouse. Maybe it was because she’d relieved herself and now was left with only the urge to eat. She prayed it was something heavy and filling. If she wasn’t certain the meal last night would have made her ill, she would have eaten it. After being josteled that long on a horse and the odd tension that was developing at seeing Silas and Lucretia together, she knew it wouldn’t stay down if she ate much more than the broth and bread.  
Stepping back in side, she wasn’t sure if she relieved or unhappy to see Silas and Lucretia already sat at a table, waiting for her.  
“Good morning, you!” Greeted Lucretia.  
“Lucretia told me there was little excitement last night.” Degory shook her head, hoping he’d think her pinkened cheeks were from the angry wind outside.  
“It was just another nightmare. No need to worry.”  
“Hmmm, have you had them long?” Degory thought for a moment before answering and flitted her eyes up to meet his as she spoke.  
“Ages.” She said, before turning her attention to the table and taking her own seat.  
“Thats a shame. I’m sorry, friend.”  
“No need to be sorry, SIlas, everyone has their cross to bare.” It appeared that Silas had chosed a cider this morning, she could smell the fruity steam from where she sat across from him as he raised it to his lips.  
“I’ve heard of people being plagued with nightmares. Have you seen a priest?”  
“A priest?”  
“Yes, many people believe someone plagued by nightmares like you may have a demon attached to them.”  
“I doubt very much that thats what it is.” Silas shrugged and sat back in his seat.  
“Well, what do you think it is?” Degory tried to think of something whitty to say, but Lucretia interrupted.  
“He thinks its a ghost.”  
“A ghost?” With a deep sigh, Degory nodded.  
“Yes, a ghost of someone I use to know. I’m sure they’ll tire of harassing me soon.”  
“Even more reason to get a priest though, I mean, this poor soul needs to put into Gods care.”  
“If God chose to reward the spirit of the person I believe to be following me with ever last life, he is not a god I wish to know.” Degory said no more, food was being placed on the table and she found that far more interesting than the current discussion. It was hard to remember not to eat fast, that would upset her stomach, too. She wasn’t sure why her temper was so short since leaving, but she quessed she was tired.  
While chewing at some ham, she allowed her eyes to wander and caught a glint of sunlight coming off of Lucretias bosom.  
“Whats that?”  
“Oh this?” She asked, laying down her fork and picking up the gem around her neck. “Silas gave it to me this morning.”  
“Silas?”  
“Yes, I had bought it before we left town, I met to give it to her ages, but it never felt right. Something about this morning did, though.” He winked at his lover, who giggled. Degory swallowed hard, feel the desperate need to vomit all of a sudden.  
“I see, well, its quite lovely, Lucretia, it sets off your eyes.”  
“Thank you.” She held up the yellow gem closer to her brown eyes. “Do you really think so?” Her stomach churned again and she swallowed harder.  
“Yes, Lu, I truly think its a lovely gem on you.” Degory hoped her smile looked more friendly and genuine than like a grimace. “How could you afford that, SIlas?”  
“I didn’t spend much but on our room and food, so I was able to set some aside.” He shrugged.  
“Well, I’m glad you could. I was able to set a little aside, too, though not enough to buy something as lovely as that.”  
“You know, I still wish you would have let me introduce to you to some of my friends before we left.” Lucretia looked sullen.  
“Why?” She asked. “So I could woo them, kiss them, dance with them, and then run off one morning without saying goodbye? That would have been a horrible thing to do.” She shook her head. “I’m very glad I followed my instinct and declined your kind offer. I don’t enjoy hurting people.”  
“Have you ever truly loved, Silas? You strike me as a lifelong bachelor.” She was silent for a moment, finally something she could tell the truth about.  
“Lucretia, dear, I’m a widower.” Adjusting in her seat, she tried to ignore the embarrassed stares.  
“So, thats what happened.” Silas said. “You told us you’d been married before, I was wondering where she was.”  
“Well, she is with God now.” She lied. “Where she belongs.”  
“May I ask her name?” Lucretia asked. Given her face, Degory realized she must have given an offended impression. “So that I may pray for her.”  
“I’d prefer not discuss my wife.” Degory spoke, voice cracking a bit. “If you don’t mind.” Lucretia nodded.  
“Of course, Degory. I’m sorry I asked.” Though the following silence was awkward again, Degory was grateful for it. She just wanted to enjoy a good meal and some cider before having to go on with the day.  
“So,” Silas finally spoke up, clearing his throat between large bites of ham. “Is today the day, Degory?” He asked, “Or do you wish to remain a free man another day?”  
“What?”  
“Why our wager, friend.” He leaned closer. “To join Washingtons war.” Panic flooded through her, it finally felt real. She turned down to her own ham and suddenly felt queesy, fearing for what she had gotten down for breakfast, she laid down her fork.  
“I see no reason why we shan’t go this morning.” Still horrifed at the prospect of going off to war, she hoped she didn’t sound it and tried to hide that anxiety behind her mug of cider as she took another long swig.  
“Look at you!” He laughed. “You weren’t going to go at all, but now, I promise I go and you’re ready to gear up soon as the sun hits the sky.”  
“Are you renigging on our arrangement, Sir?”  
“By no means,” He explained, displaying his palms before her. “I simply see no reason why we shouldn’t enjoy the city a day or two before we rush off. Besides, they won’t be fighting come winter. The Red Coats have taken New York, they’ll spend Christmas cozy by their fireplaces in there lavish digs up there… they’ll not go out in the snow to battle.” Degory considered this, perhaps, she thought, she could delay this until Spring. Perhaps she shouldn’t even go at all. Suddenly, though, the nauseau cleared and she realized, fully, without a shadow of a doubt, that she actually wanted to go. She wanted to fight. She was ready to learn how to fight and she wanted to know how it felt to be on battlefield.  
“If you are just scared, Silas, theres no shame in that.” She teased. Silas scoffed at this, fussy a bit in his chair and throwing his arm over Lucretia.  
“Thats not what I’m saying at all.”  
“Then why delay it?” She asked. “What’ll we do here all winter? Is there even anything for us to do?”  
“I’m sure we could find something to occupy our time in the snow.”  
“Or we could spend our time training for the battlefield.” Degory studied his face. “If you’re scared, we can wait, but there’s no other reason to wait and, frankly, delaying the inevitable is useless. You either want to fight, or you don’t.” He was quiet a moment, pulling his hand through his blond hair, he cleared his throat. “Its more brave to admit you’re afraid than to pretend you’re not, Silas.”  
“Fine.” Lucretia wrung her hands, she obviously hated it when there was tension between the two of them. “I’m scared.” He whispered. “And if you were smart, you’d be scared, too.”  
“You think me unafraid?” Degory scoffed. “You must be joking. I read the paper, I’ve read the reports. I’ve seen people mourning their fathers, brothers, and sons. I’d be a fool not to be afraid.” She paused to take a swig of cider. “Its good to hear you speak like a man, though.”  
“I thought I always spoke like a man.” She shook her head.  
“No, only as a man. Theres a difference.” Lucretia smiled and Silas guffawed.  
“Thats semantics.” He insisted, but was meant with a shrug from Degory.  
“So you say.”  
“Alright, then, men, how about we not sign your lives away today, yeah?” Lucretia finally spoke. “Lets go do something. See the city.”  
“We really haven’t got money to be doing anything frivolous.”  
“Silas, don’t be so sour.” Lucretia sighed. “We can just have a walk around for now and see what happens.”  
“I agree. Its not the warmest, but I’d sure like to have a look around.” Degory wanted a refill on her cider, but thought better of it. “I’ve never been here, have either of you?” They both shook their heads. “Well, then, theres enough to see without having to worry about opening your purse, Silas. We’ll just have a nice, cold, walk.”  
“Thats another thing, I don’t relish heading out into that any more than necessary.”  
“Well, maybe Dug and I will go since you want to be so disagreeable.” Lucretia suggested. Degory expected some sort of push back from Silas or a scoff or some sort of display of discomfort, instead, though, Silas threw up his hands.  
“Degory, my good man, will you do me the honor of escorting my lovely beau Lucretia around the city?” She couldn’t hid her smile at the offer, it was much more acceptable to her to sitting in here across from the both of them.  
“Why, Silas, I’d be happy to do so, friend.” Silas gave a pat on the table.  
“There you have you!” He gestured to them both. “You two go enjoy the city and I shall enjoy the room I paid for and the book I’ve brought.” Rising from the table, he leaned down to Lucretia and gave her a kiss on the lips before he headed back up stairs, leaving them alone.  
Degory was sure she saw a gentle blush color Lucretias cheeks as theirs eyes met behind Silas’ turned back. She must have been holding tension in her shoulders because as she watched him go, she felt her body go a bit limp; relaxing.  
“So, what would you like to do first?” Lucretia asked, picking at the last of her eggs. “Anything specific?”  
“I figure just walking around with you will be exciting enough.” To her, Lucretias soft giggle sounded like a bell.  
“You charmer.” She teased. “I mean, any certain direction you want to go? Anything you want to look for?  
“Like what?”  
“I don’t know.” Lucretia thought a moment. “A church, their shops,... a graveyard.”  
“A graveyard?” She asked. “Why’d a go to a graveyard?”  
“Maybe put that restless spirit following you to rest?”  
“Lucretia, I promise, if he meant to rest he would have left long ago or never shown up in the first place.” She explained, making sure to smile a bit.  
“Well, maybe we can find it some ghost friends?” She joked.  
“Right, because thats exactly what he needs.” Satisfied she was full, Degory began to stand. “Are you ready to go, my dear?”  
“I believe I am, sir.” She set her fork down and rose to accept Degory’s arm. A pulse of electricity shot up Degory’s spine at the touch, the thrill taking her breath away a moment.  
“Well, then, Miss, shall we?” She managed.  
“Yes, good Sir, I believe we shall.”  
Somehow, the cool autumn wind didn’t feel as harsh as it had earlier when she stood next to Lucretia. She thought, perhaps, the extra inch or two in height might have bHarperd some of it, or maybe being close to another human body softened the blows, but something told her, something quiet and deep down, told her it was more than that. It was something spiritual and primal. Something that human beings had sought, killed for, and dreamed of for millenia. This was merely her first true journey down this road.  
How was she suppose to be able to name it so early? How do you name a color you’ve never seen before or a new plant whose scent had never graced the inside of your nose before?  
She could not be faulted for her naivete, after all, she never knew that it was meant to feel like this. Meant to stir your soul and move your hips to a rhythym only your heart hears.  
Truthbetold, if she would have fully known, in your conscious mind what was taking root, she would have turned and ran again.  
As she knew this, though, subconsciously, she also knew that she would never regret the path they walked together and she’d treasure every misstep and wrong turn forever. 

Not far from the tavern, Lucretia was delighted to find, sat a graveyard. With a giggle, she pulled Degory in, excitedly, before bounding off.  
“Look, Dug. Look at all the ghost friends you could leave your little menace with.” She called, twirling in circles amongst the tombstones.  
“I told you, I don’t believe he’s ever been much for making friends and he’s far less lively now.” Oh, that laugh again. It was more intoxicating than any liquor she’d ever drank. She could listen to it all day.  
“Oh, so, now you think yourself clever?”  
“No, I’ve always thought myself clever, its not my fault it takes others time to hear my genius.”  
“Genius?”  
“Brilliance?” She asked, shrugging. “That a better choice of word?”  
“Both are incredibly conseded in this instance.”  
“I’m not conseded, merely self aware.”  
“Ah, so, you’re not full of yourself.”  
“Not at all.”  
“Not guilty of the deadly sin of pride?”  
“Ah, that is a sin isn’t it?”  
“Very much so.”  
“I never understood that.” She shook her head, leading the way through the cemetary, arms crossed behind her back. “Why is it wrong to be proud of what ones done? To be happy with something you’ve done or created? “  
“Well, because you didn’t do it but for the grace of God, so you’d be taking credit for His accomplishments.”  
“Yes, but, why can’t they be mine as well? He HELPED me achieve something, he didn’t do it for me.”  
“Dug.” Lucretia stopped.  
“What?” She turned back to meet her eyes.  
“Thats dangerously close to blasphemy.”  
“I suppose it is, isn’t it.” Lucretia nodded, silently. “Forgive me?”  
“My forgiveness isn’t the forgiveness you should be seeking.”  
“You’re right, I suppose. I should be a bit more grateful. Its just, I feel my size has always made me so invisible.” She sighed. “It’s just hard to not want to be seen and appreciated for you offer the world.” Lucretia dropped her shocked look and nodded, knowingly.  
“You give the world what only you can give because God decided you should.” She explained, taking Degory’s arm again and offering a loving smile. “God bestowed you with gifts to fulfill his plan not for your personal glory, but His. His glory is far more important and far more beautiful than any personal glory.” Degory held her tongue and chose not to argue or ask questions, she could feel the importance of this to her and didn’t want to spoil it or start a fight or lose this feeling in her that was growing since they’d met… like a weed in a garden. “Perhaps we should stop in the church and pray.” Lucretia suggested, pointing to the large building a few yard to their right.  
“I’m not sure, Lucretia, dear.” Degory felt herself twitch.  
“Why on earth not?”  
“I dare say, I fear I’d burst into flames the second I walked in.” She joked. Lucretia gave her gentle smack on the arm.  
“Don’t be silly, you’re not evil.”  
“And how would you know?”  
“I’m a Godly woman, Degory, I know evil and I know good.”  
“Yes, and much like Eve in the garden, you certainly haven’t feared tasting the fruit.” Lucretia gasped and tossed Degory a look of disbelief.  
“Mr. Mauz!”  
“Lets not play coy now, Lu. You’re no less than a sinner than I.”  
“I never claimed to not be sinner, I only suggested that you should be aware of your sins, too. Pride and blasphemy are far worse, I believe, than sins of the flesh.”  
“Where did you hear that?” Degory laughed. “Did God tell you this directly, or did you just decide?” Lucretias face grew stern.  
“I’ll not have you insult my God.” She insisted, stopping in her tracks and meeting Degory’s gaze.  
“Apologies.” She whispered.  
“I am not taking no for an answer now,” Lucretia began pulling Degory toward the large house of worship. “We’re going in to the church and we’re going to pray.”  
“Fine. I will pray with you.”  
“Not just with me,” She continued, “But for yourself.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

Somehow, the air outside the church felt different to her as she stepped out on the stone walk way, arm in arm with Lucretia.  
“I always find praying in a church a much more spiritual experience than praying alone in bed.”  
“How is it different to you?” Degory asked.  
“Well,... its a bit like going to Gods house for tea.” They both laughed, Degory moreso at the ring of her melodic laugh in her ears.  
“Thats ridiculous.”  
“Well, it is Gods house, isn’t it? So, its always more fun to visit your friends than to have them come over to your house.”  
“I suppose I agree, I mean, I always prefer to be able to leave rather than try to ask someone to leave.” Degory shrugged.  
“Now you’re being ridiculous. What do you mean leave? When I’m with my friends, I never want it to end.”  
“I enjoy having friends and and being around them, Lu, just fine. I just find it tiring. I like to spend time alone.”  
“What on earth do you do alone?”  
“Read, mostly.”  
“You can read with people.” She insisted.  
“Yes, of course you can, but its not the same.”  
“Hows it not the same?”  
“Well, sometimes they want to talk.”  
“What’s wrong with that?”  
“If I’m trying to read, I want to enjoy the book, not be drawn out of it every few minutes to discuss gossip or a scene I haven’t gotten to yet or read ages ago.”  
“So, you just don’t like people.”  
“I like people fine, I just like them quiet more often than not.”  
“Degory Mauz, you are a very odd man.” You’re not kidding.  
“I’m simply me and if that makes me odd, so be it. I feel no obligation to act a certain way just because people think I should. I make my own decisions.”  
“And what are you deciding now?”  
“What do you mean?” She asked, not realizing she’d been leading them down the main road and still further from the Tavern.  
“Where are you taking us? Do you have a plan?” Degory shook her head.  
“I think, in this case, its more fun that way.” She smiled.  
“So, you’re truly joining the army.” Words weren’t needed, though she couldn’t look Lucretia in eye, she nodded, facing forward with an expressionless face. “I think its brave and admirable.”  
“Well, theres no telling what will happen to those like me when the war ends.” She swallowed hard. “We have to win or we’ll die. This is treason.”  
“I know.” Lucretias grip on her arm tightened. “Thats what makes it so brave. Soldiers like you willing to go off and fight for what you truly believe in.” Well, its not just that, Dug thought, wondering how she would navigate her duties as a soldier in her current identity. How she could hide her body at all times. She hadn’t thought about it a lot, but now was a good a time as any.  
“What are you thinking?” It occured to Degory that she must have been silent longer than she’d thought. “You got this look in your eyes… like you see Satan coming and you don’t fear him. Its so cold and serious.” Degory felt her whole face loosen into laughter and a wide smile at the comment.  
“Did I really look as though I don’t fear the Devil?!”  
“Well, you look as though you would challenge him.” After a pause, allowing Degory to stop laughing, she finally asked. “You never told me of your family, you know. Only that you’re from Ohio Country.”  
“There’s not much to tell.” She lied.  
“How do you mean?”  
“I mean, theres little to speak of.” She sighed. “I was taught to read and write and a few scarce other things by a tutor, but most of my time was spent helping the household.” Not all lies, but not the entire truth for sure. “What about you?”  
“Well, I have siblings and I’m the oldest girl.”  
“And why did you run away?”  
“My sister asked me to.”  
“Why would a sister ask that of you?”  
“She wanted to marry and I didn’t even have a suitor.If I disappeared, our parents may be more willing to let her marry.”  
“Do you know if it worked?” Lucretia sighed, sadly.  
“I’ve no way to send word asking about it.”  
“So, you can’t go back?”  
“Maybe not ever, but I like to think my sisters happy and our parents let her marry the man she wanted.” Electricity shot up her spine as Lucretia laid her head against her shoulder. They were basically forehead to forehead, being so close in height, but it was so nice to be this close to her. “She loved him since they were little.” Degory gripped her a little tighter. “I mean, I couldn’t say no to her when I’ve seen them go from playmates to lovers. I just couldn’t and my parents wouldn’t never let her marry before me. So, she begged to go and I knew I had to.”  
“Thats very sad.”  
“Now, your turn” Lucretias hair tickled her cheek as she brought it off Degorys shoulder. “What brought you away from your family?”  
“I just wanted freedom.” Not a lie. “So, I just left one night. Rode off without a second thought.”  
“I want to know more about this ghost that haunts you.” Degory stiffened. “He’s haunting me now, too. I think I should know who he is.”  
“Hes a man that this world is better off without.” Lucretia set her head back down on her shoulder, obviously still not satisfied with Dugs answer. “I’m sorry he’s bothering you. The only thing that may help is if I finally leave.”  
“Did he haunt you before you left.”  
“No. He followed me here.” Chased me here… like a wild predator stalking prey.  
“If he followed you this far he obviously wants something, have you asked him?”  
“Yes.”  
“And what is he looking for?”  
“He just wants to torment me.”  
“What does he think you did?” Degory swallowed.  
“That, I’m not sure of.” Another lie. “He never liked me in life, so why would he like me in death.”  
“What was he like?”  
“Not to awful different than he is now, just didn’t have such creative ways to scare people.”  
“I wonder why there are ghosts in the first place.”  
“I believe that when people are truly evil or truly in pain that that quality, that emotion, can become its own living thing and just carry on as it did in life.”  
“Do you think thats what demons are?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Is your ghost actually a Demon, Degory.” Lucretia stopped in her tracks and turned to examine her face, she made sure to laugh.  
“No, its a ghost. The man in life was evil but he isn’t a fallen angel. Not by a long shot. But, I’ll tell you, I’m certain he envies their power.” 

Silas had decided that he would rather spend his last day as a free man reading and enjoying the fresh linens of a bed in a warm Tavern. It was truly one of his favorite past times. Maybe it was because it was nice to feel the softness of cloth and not expect the bite of a small, foul mite to follow. It was probably why he was sleeping so soundly.  
Sure, Lucretia had told him that his snoring was constant, though she insisted it was soft and comforting, he didn’t believe that. Silas was certain that he was sleeping so well because he finally felt free.  
Living under his fathers thumb, he had never really gotten the chance to be his own man. Honestly, it was the biggest reason he had tried to avoid joining the army. Lucretia and Degory were right, he was afraid. Afraid of dying, afraid of getting injured on the battlefield only to have to endure amputation and then die later, afraid of having to kill others. But, mostly, he was afraid of giving up his own freedom again.  
The entire reason he had walked away from his former life was because of his father. His father insisted on making all the decisions and he still bore a few choice scars from his own acts of rebellion in their home. His gift for his denial of his fathers supreme law.  
The final straw was when his father tried to tell him who to marry. He had picked this sweet, innocent, young woman from a neighboring town. Silas couldn’t do it. The girl was too young, too meek, and he didn’t truly feel enough for her. On top of that, he could feel her fear. When he told his father that he felt it was wrong, that he should perhaps court her longer, it was met with abuse.  
So, to save himself and the young woman, he fled. Neither of them deserved to be unhappy and he’d not take such a woman to bed in that state. He supposed that that was why he was so driven to Lucretia, she had approached him, after all, she’d been very obvious in her advances and had continued to be confident behind closed doors.  
Maybe that was just him, though,  
She seemed eager to do everything they did and never complained.  
He liked that.  
Lucretia seemed to want him enough to not argue, there was no tension with her, she let him be a man. He needed that. And, now, he thought, he would be that man. He would fight this war and be the type of man that deserved to marry her.  
He would be the soldier she deserved and used this war to prove himself to her, his father, and even himself. He could be a man and he would, even he died trying.  
After this short time with her, he already knew he wanted Lucretia, he needed her. He could see their future children in his minds eye. The only thing missing was how he would provide. Being a soldier would be a stepping stone to that.  
Fighting for his country was also fighting for his woman. His happiness. And his own personal freedom to live how he chose and with who he chose. And he wanted her.  
The book ended up boring him to tears, which was more than just a little disappointing, he had so looked forward to reading it, but found it to be nonesensical dribble. Stubbornly wanting to enjoy this time though he refused to put it down and give up on it.  
This was how he was going to spend his day; he was going to finish this blasted book. It made him sad to think he may never be able to read again; he wouldn’t have time. Everyone was saying the war wouldn’t last long, but they’d been saying that for a few years now. This wasn’t the same war it was on day one. Things kept looking bleaker and bleaker, in all likelihood, he was signing up to die.  
With a ragged breath, he told himself, if he lived, though, he would have a wonderful life. He’d run away with Lucretia, find a nice house, and start a family. Everything would fall into place, he just needed to survive the war. The fact was, he knew, either way, he’d have to survive the war. What the battles had done to the land and how worrying it was to live here noawadays, many were convinced the end was near. The soon the four horsemen would come and whisk them all away.  
His father, he remembered, preached that often.  
The end is coming anyway, son, why argue? Just do as your told.  
It was hard to shake off that kind of abuse. The words had dug a lot deeper than his hands could reach.  
Finally, he started getting hungry again. Knowing that the morning was gone, lost in a terrible book he liked little of, he let out a long sigh, folded it closed, and decided to go downstairs. He’d have a cider and wait for Degory and Lucretia to come back.  
It shouldn’t take too much longer, they’d been gone for hours. Why had he decided he wanted a quiet morning all to himself? He hoped they’d come back to eat, maybe he’d spend the afternoon with them, before night fall. Staying inside was his preference, but if they wanted to take another walk in this weather, he’d follow them. After all, he had never had friends like this and if they were all going off to war, they would be spending a lot of time together. He hoped. Truly, he feared for Degory. So small, bold, though, but small. He’d never seen a man so tiny. He wasn’t sure how on earth Degory expected to survive out there. Certainly, he would get shot. Maybe he should be the one to back down; he’d be saving his friend, but he might be losing the woman he loves in the process. How else could he prove himself a man in this world?  
A true man of the time, he believed, was, now, armed. A rebel, a fighter, and brave, He smiled to himself, thinking that Degory was already all three, the uniform would change little. This wasn’t an adventure he relished going on, this was an adventure he felt honor bound to travel.  
To his surprise, as he stepped into the tavern proper, he didn’t see Degory or Lucretia. He thought, for certain, they’d already be back and he wouldn’t have to wait for them. The cider, he thought, would do him good and they would be back for the warmth and smell of the drink and the fire, he was certain. It couldn’t be too long.  
It’s not like they were the best of friends on their own. 

Abiel knew he must look lost. He’d gone to the tavern a thousand times before when he came through the city, but he knew he always had that look on his face when he walked into a room; like he was examining it. When he remembered, he’d try to stop it first, but he usually didn’t remember until he was already doing it.  
“Abiel!” The tavern keeper greeted him, wrapping him in a hug. “Been a while since we’ve seen you around.”  
“Well, I didn’t come here on business.” He explained. “I plan on staying here and then, I decided I’m going to reenlist.”  
“Reenlist?” Abiel bowed his head, smiling smugly. “Why on earth would you do that?”  
“I got bored.” He laughed. Shrugging a bit.  
“Yes, I suppose a theres no place for boredom on a battlefield, is there?”  
“Not a bit.”  
“Well, I’m guessing they’ll be men hapoy to see your return.”  
“And just as many that hoped never to see my tired old face again.” The tavern keeper patted him on the back and guided him into the room.  
“Let me get you an ale, sir.”  
“Thank you,sir.”  
He sat down at the bar, glansing about, still as though he was searching for something. Catching himself, he turned back to the table and watched his friend pour his drink.  
“So, that marriage thing didn’t work out, eh?” He shook his head.  
“No, she decided its not what she wanted.” He sighed. “Fine by me, I don’t think that lass could boil water, but she was a good looking woman.”  
“You know, you could have just moved her here and let me cook for you every night.”  
“Ay, but she wouldn’t be happy about that.”  
“A girl can learn to cook.”  
“Yes, but a woman should already know how.” He took a long drink of his ale. “I don’t know, Fred, I don’t think modern women are anything like their mothers.” Fred shrugged.  
“Maybe you should have married her mother.” Abiel laughed.  
“Thats one way to get her to call me Daddy, for sure.”  
“You crude man.” Fred said, though a tight smile.  
“Like you haven’t seen beneath or womans frock?” Another drink. “Or maybe, Fred, do you prefer a bit of buggery.” Fred shook his head.  
“I’ll have you know, Abiel, that, unlike you, I am married.”  
“Oh, really. How long?”  
“It’ll be five in the spring.”  
“Any children.”  
“Not yet.”  
“So, do you prefer buggery?” Fred couldn’t seem to hold back his laughter this time.  
“What my wife and I do behind closed doors is between us ang God almighty.” He hissed. “I’ll not be spreading talk of my wife about town.”  
“Then tell me, how do you not have a babe in five years?” His face looked genuine this time, he was making no jokes. Fred shifted from foot to foot a moment, hands behind his back.  
“We’ve come close a few times,” he said, eyes drifted to the floor. “But, the good Lord just didn’t see any of them a fit time to bestow us with the blessing of children just yet.” He could feel his face drop as Fred finally lifted his eyes to meet Abiels.  
“I’m so sorry, Fred, I didn’t mean to --” Fred raised his hand to stop him.  
“Its perfectly alright.” Fred sighed heavily. “Its happened before and it’ll happen again. Probably sooner rather than later.”  
“I’m certain it happens far more often than it should.” Fred simply nodded and allowed his hands to swing back down to his side. “Would you like a meat pie? We’re just making some.”  
“Maybe soon, but not just yet.” He shook his head. “I could use a room, though.”  
“Of course,” Fred smiled, wandering off to retrieve a key for him. “You’ll like the room. Susan has made new blankets for all the beds.”  
“Your wife?”  
“Yes.”  
“Thats very nice.”  
“Spent all winter last year on them.”  
“Well, I can’t wait to see them, you’ll thank her for me?”  
“Of course.”  
“And you should ask her to make blankets for the patriot this winter, we’ll be needing them.” He pounded down the last of his ale, gave Fred a nod and heading to the stairs. He wanted to wash up a bit from his travels and rest a bit before he did anything else. Even after all this time, all morning on a horse still left him ragged. He supposed he’d have to get use to it again. He kept thinking he should have signed up earlier, or he should wait until spring, but he also knew that he needed to get back into uniform, to hold a musket again. It was calling him. He’d been having dreams of lately, sometimes, even smelling the gun powder. It had been so real to him that, when he woke, he was always confused to be back in his bed and back at home. His longing to return to the battlefield and how it transfixed him, was truly what hurt his engagement.  
Maybe he missed the scent of gunpowder and blood in the air. Maybe the screams that haunted his dreams were pleading him to finish the fight. Or maybe he just felt like a coward for leaving while there were still battles being fault and he could still fight. So many of his friends had been lost or injured; lost limbs, lost lives, and couldn’t fight any longer. But, he could.  
Having survived this long and so far made him feel guilty. He couldn’t help it.  
So many good men had died. Why was he still alive?  
Alcohol helped, the love of a good woman helped. But, the buzz of alcohol fades away and something about their love in his marriage felt more obligatory than genuine.  
And it made him feel empty again.  
Maybe war could fill him up. He’d been spending so much time aching to feel whole again. That might never happen and who could blame him for thinking that. He smiled as he glanced around his room. Midday light streamed in from the window, illuminating everything.  
Slowly, he made his way over to the bed and sat down hard on it. Thumbing at the quilt, he smiled, it was certainly well made, he thought, admiring the stitches. He was something to look forward to when he was ready to finally go to sleep in a few hours. Definitely heavy enough to keep the chill away. It reminded him of the blanket his mother had made him when he was little.  
The fabric felt just as soft and warm.  
It must be some sort of fleece. He’d never paid much attention to that, never having to make clothing himself. He just knew it felt welcoming and like coming home to run his hand over it. He missed his mother. It’d been a very long time since she had passed on and it was little moments like this that he felt her around him. Like she’d come back to hug him again or take his hand or make him a stew. He’d never had another stew like hers and was never certain what she did to make it taste so amazing. Maybe his sister would know, maybe he could ask her to tell his wife. She could cook, but everyone misses something from their childhood. He missed his mothers stew.  
Before he knew it, he had wrapped himself in the fluffy blanket and dozed off. 

Degory and Lucretia had lost track of time. Saying prayers in the church had taken longer than expected and they kept a meandering pace towards the tavern; never a direct route. No real hurry to return to eat. They were enjoying each others company.  
“What books did you read, Degory?” Lucretia asked.  
“A read many books. I mean, I couldn’t list them all.” She bit her tongue. The truth was, she probably could name every book she ever read. She’d hidden a few, but her parents had discouraged it. It was only later it was easier to make time for reading. When she spent most of her day alone in a house where only two people lived. It didn’t get messy often, she’d be finished with the most important chores by lunch and spend the rest of her time cooking dinner. Reading was easier to make time for when only patience was needed.

“So, what are you doing here?” Abiel whispered into her hear.  
“The same thing you are.” Degory mummbled.  
“Yes, but you don’t have to… you could marry a nice man, have a quiet life somewhere, raise some babes up…. Why war?”Degory didn’t answer, just kept her face forward and stayed in step with the rest of her crew. “I mean, this certainly isn’t the best life for anyone, than alone someone like you.” She gave him a piercing glare through the corner of her eyes. “Look, I’m only saying you’re not built like a Roman soldier.”  
“Do you intend to mocking me the entire time, Abiel?”  
“No, ‘m certain I’m not the only one here who doesn’t give a shit whether the soldier next to them takes a piss sitting or standing or enjoys a good buggering or not as long as they can shoot straight. Can you shoot straight?” She felt herself blush a little.  
“Close.”  
“Ah. Still learning, but we all have to learn something on our feet. I just don’t understand why you could have a nice life and some kids and you’d follow us out here.” She sighed.  
“Did you ever think maybe I ran away from a life like that? That I found that life suffacating and I wanted to improve my station and way of way of life?”  
“So, you’re more into the fairer sex, eh?”  
“I loved my husband.”  
“Thats not what I said.”  
“If I did. It would be none of your business.”  
“I think I know who you like, too.”  
“Stop it.”  
“That lovely young woman that hangs on your friends arm every moment they get. Whats her name?”  
“Lucretia. And again, my life is none of your business. Why you would even ask is beyond me.”  
“Maybe I want to be your friend.” He offered. “Help you out. Protect you a bit.”  
“I may need back up on the battle field, but I shan’t need it anywhere else.”  
“I would’t be so sure.” He grinned. “See, this is my second enlistment, this is your first, and we all have secrets, but yours could create far more problems than a lot of the other secrets your fellow soldiers have.”  
“Do you mean to expose me?”  
“Not at all.” He scoffed. “I mean to help you. This life is hard enough for a man, I’m not sure if you know what you’re signing up for.”  
“Well, I’ll learn, won’t I”  
“You will.” He nodded. “And it’ll be easier with a friend by your side.”  
“I have friends.”  
“Yes, but do they know?” She swallowed hard.”See, you can’t be fully protected without being a little vulnerable. If they don’t know who you are, they won’t know how best to protect you.”  
“Fine.” She hissed. “If it’ll stop you talking, I’ll accept. I suppose keeping my enemy close to me will work to an advantage.” He smiled.  
“Don’t think of me as your enemy,” Abiel offered. “Think of me as your big brother.”  
“I’ve never had one of those.” She laughed, quietly. “That’ll be new for me.”  
“Yes, well, this path you’re on will be filled with a great many firsts, I’m sure.” He eyed Lucretia in the wagon ahead of them. “I’ll make sure that happens, I mean, if you’re accepting my help.”  
“I really don’t think I want your help with that.”  
“Are you sure? I have a flair for attracting members of the opposite sex. I would be very happy show you. Or.. if you’re keen… let you experience it yourself.”  
“I’ll politely decline your offer on both fronts there, thank you.”  
“Fine.” He sighed. “I figured as much. I can show you how to be a man, though, there are a few things you’re getting wrong.”  
“Like what?”  
“The way you hold yourself.” He explained. “You look down too much. You never look confident and we’ve all been taught to hold ourselves a certain way, even when we don’t feel confident. Hold your head up higher.” It was at that moment, she realized, she’d been staring at the feet in front of her and raised her eyes to stare the men in front of her in the back of the head. “Better.” He shrugged. “And stop avoiding women, most men are taught to enjoy the company of women and charm them. People are going to start making jokes about you committing buggery if you only pal around with the men and their girlfriends. I’d consider finding another woman or women to flirt with with. Maybe even be intimate with. At the very least, you should let the other men see you kiss a woman.”  
“Why is that important?”  
“Its part of fitting in with these men.” He explained. “The culture here, many of them are rogues and rascals… they’re working for the greater good, but they love a good party and a plump set of breasts.”  
“Why do I want friends?”  
“Because having friends will keep you alive, stupid.” He spat. “Its not just about keeping up appearences, its about being a good enough soldier and a good enough man for these men to want to make sure you don’t die. You have to make them care about you and buy that you’re a man you never know what will happen on the battlefield.”  
“Fine, but where on earth do I start with that?”  
“When we’re at camp tonight, make sure a few men see you talking to women. Unattached women. You don’t want them thinking you’ll steal their girl.”  
“Right, well, how do I know if they’re unattached?” She asked.  
“I’ll help you there.” He patted her on the shoulder. “A big brother always look out for there little sister.” He winked, she responded by rolling her eyes.  
They’d been walking for miles and her calves were beginning to hurt, she hoped Marco was fine hooked up to the wagon Lucretia was riding in. She hated not being with him, but this was how things were right now. This was going to be miserable, she knew, but maybe, just maybe, it would all be worth it in the end. She’d make something out of herself. She definitely felt more like Degory than her old self as time went on, that was for certain. Like she had more to give then a clean house and a brood of children; that wasn’t the only way her worth could be measured and it thrilled her. Abiel was right, though, she needed to fit in in order to fully wear this mask and survive.  
The world, she knew, would be full of possibilities if she survived..and they won. Neither would be possible without her learning some skills and giving herself fully to this disguise. She’d probably questioned herself several dozen times over whether this was the right decision or not, but she followed her gut. She wasn’t sure why she wanted this, she wasn’t sure why she thought she’d survive, but she felt, in her bones, this was the path she needed to follow.  
Her whole life, now, would be running until further notice. They’d win or die trying. Perhaps this entire war was a metaphor for her life. There was no alternate path now, no means of escape from where she was heading.  
“Do you think,” She asked, “It’ll be hard to get them to like me?” She asked, all of a sudden, extremely worried about acceptance. Abiel shrugged.  
“I can’t answer that, but you’ll need them to like you.” He whispered, “If your cover gets blown or you get into trouble while hell fires raining down on us, you’ll need them to like you to save your arse.” He adjusted the sack he was carrying. “They won’t give a fuck where you’re from or whats in your pants if you act like a man and shoot like one. You’re number one concern is showing them you are a man. Of acts, of your word, and in any other way you are asked to prove yourself.”  
“What, like, if someone called me out to the field.”  
“Yes. That, too.” She nearly stopped in her tracks.  
“Are you serious? Someone may ask me to duel?”  
“If you offend them enough, yes, absolutely.” Absentmindly, she began to chew on her lip. “Stop that.” He demanded. “Men don’t do that.”  
“I’m sure some do.”  
“Yes, but most of them have a second nose to sniff them out of trouble and another foot in height to protect them You do not, so its important you don’t do anything that could be thought of as feminine. Biting your lips is one of them.”  
“All right.”  
“Do you know anything about dueling?” She shook her head. “Have you ever read a book on etiquette or any works of fiction?”  
“Some fiction.” She whispered, sheepishly.  
“Well, thats something.” He sighed. “What made you think this was a good idea anyway?”  
“It just sort of happened and I didn’t stop it.”  
“How did this just sort of happen?”  
“I left home and the first town I came to,... they all thought I was a man.”  
“So, you let a village of idiots give you enough false confidence in your portrayal of a man that you decided you should join the army.”  
“Stupid, I know.”  
“Actually, thats the manly thing I’ve heard about you since we met.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Not too loudly, now, unless you laugh deeper, thats too high pitched. Its almost a giggle.” She nodded. “Now, your walk, you swing your hips a bit still, probably from before you started this masquarade. Keep them tighter, not loose enough to swing like that.” She nodded again. “And for god sakes, keep your damn head up.” 

It was even harder marching since she couldn’t relax and was focusing on walking “like a man” the last few hours. She was grateful when they were allowed to stop and make camp. It was a huge relief to not have to worry about walking like that for a while. She knew it wasn’t likely, she hoped the food would make her feel full enough to sleep well tonight and the cold that was growing would keep her stalker away. The last thing she needed was to be heard screaming in her high pitched shriek in a camp full of men. This wasn’t just about appearence, this was about safety and survival.  
She did as she was told, set up some tents with the other men and asked few questions. Spoke as little as possible and focused solely on getting to sleep so she could rest before focusing on surviving another day. As she was about to turn in, though, a sharp whistle got her attention.It was Abiel.  
“Come with me.”  
“Come with you were?”  
“To talk to the other men.”  
“But, Abiel, I’m exhausted.”  
“We all are, some ale the men brought may help you sleep later.”  
“Do we have to do this now?”  
“You need to be taking advantage of every opportunity that presents itself. I’m not dying in battle because some stupid woman thought playing soldier was good idea.”  
“Fine.” She whispered back, sharply. “But, I’m not even sure what I’ll say.” He shrugged.  
“You’ll figure out, but if you don’t even try, you’ll have no chance of making friends.” Irritated, she followed, obedietely. It was a bit of a relief that, upon approaching the small group that had assembled, to see Silas among them, she quickly approached him.  
“Where’s Lucretia?” She whispered.  
“She’s decided to go to sleep early, shes back with the rest of the ladies in the caravan.” Silas laughed, patting her on the shoulder. “She’s not going to hang out with us men, I’m sure the girls have their own things to yap on about.”  
“Oh, yes, like how to keep a frock clean on the road.” One of the men volunteered.  
“Susie, does this bun make my face look big?” The men roared in laughter.  
“Why Mary, I think your bun is stunning and so practical for our little adventure with the men.” Another man joined in, fueling the laughter.  
Well, she thought, I’m certainly glad I came out here rather than to bed. She forced herself to laugh a bit, deeply as she could. Hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was faking.  
“You better watch it, lads, I’m sure they’ll be discussing the size of your noses about now.” Abiel added. “And I’m sure some of you don’t exactly have strong sniffers as it were.” More laughter.  
Christ, what the hell did I sign up for? She wondered, accepting a bit of ale from her new big brother.  
“This here, is my new friend, Degory.” He introduced her. “I believe you know him, Silas?”  
“Yes, we joined together, we’ve been friends a good while now.”  
“Ah, good.” Abiel patted Silas on the shoulder. “So, tell us how this little boy will make a good soldier?” He laughed. “I mean, look at him.”  
“Oh, I think it’d be an error to understimate Dug.” Silas shook his head and took a drink. “I’ve seen him climb a crate in mid air to set it free before it sent stock into the ocean, I’ve seen him do the right thing it meant losing friends, and, thanks to him, I joined the army and may finally be able to marry my sweetheart.”  
“Thats all well and good. But, have seen him shoot yet?”  
“I don’t need to. I know he’s a good man and he can learn any skill you teach him.”  
“I am very flattered, Silas, but I’m not sure why we’re discussing me like this,” She interrupted. “I mean, I think my skills will speak for themselves in due time.”  
“What skills?” Abiel scoffed. “You’re so small and meek…. I bet you’ll die the first time you see battle.”  
“I’ll take that bet.” Silas said, loud and clear for all to hear.  
“You have that much faith in this boy?”Abiel asked.  
“Yes, I do and if you were truly his friend, for any length of time, you would, too.”  
“Fine, then, I’ll take the bet. What do you wager?”  
“Are you both insane? You’re betting on my life!”  
“Lets say a pound.” Silas offered.  
“I’m only worth a pound to you?” Dug grumbled, all of a sudden offended.  
“Fine then two pounds.”  
“I guess thats better.” She rolled her eyes and took a sip of ale, nearly choking on it. It tasted horrid.  
“Fine. Two pounds this tiny man gets killed the first time we fight the red coats.” Abiel put his hand out.  
“Deal.” Silas accepted it, clutching the hand tightly and giving it an aggressive shake. Abiel smiled and walked away, leaving Silas to turn and whisper harshly to Dug. “I swear, if you die the first time we fight, I will leave your body for the wild animals and savage that wander the woods.”  
“Thank you.” She scoffed.  
“I mean it, don’t embarrass me.”  
“Embarrass you?”  
“Yes,” He sighed, “I’m just getting in with these men and I don’t need you mucking it up by dying or doing something stupid.”  
“Whoa, when did I become someone that was so easily to be embarrassed by?”  
“Listen,” He sighed and his eyes softened. “With Lucretia and me,... your talk of ghosts, your quiet nature, and your crazy antics are fine, but this is a new playing field now and I want us to both survive. If you weigh me down too much, I’ll have to cut you loose.” Degory nodded in disbelief.  
“Understood.”  
“I knew you would.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder and rushed back to the rest of the group; they had started singing a drinking song that she had never heard. Deflated, she sat on an empty log across from them, making sure to smile a warm, friendly, smile.  
She wished Lucretia were there. She considered wandering off to go look for her, but she remember Abiel insisting she make some sort of impression so, against her better judgement, she stayed, smiled, and mostly listened to the men talk.  
“Are you learning anything?” Abiel whispered, leaning in close to her as he sat on the log next to her.  
“What should I be learning?” She asked.  
“About men.” He hissed. “How we talk, how we stand, how we bond.Watch and listen… they’ll tell you how to be men without even being asked.” Just then, a rather large gentleman decided to hawk a loogie into the fire. Degory made a face and met Abiels eyes. “Well, we can’t be perfect gents all the time. Think of it as a liberation.”  
“Liberation?”  
“Yes, you are being liberated from certain behaviors women are meant to follow. Expected to abide by.”  
“In exchange for equally odd and unnecessary rules for being a man.” He shrugged.  
“It's a trade off.” She wrinkled her nose.  
“Do they know they smell?” He laughed.  
“Lady, we’re all going to smell. You think we have time to stop to bathe while we’re marching? You’re going to smell just as ripe in no time.”  
“I can’t wait.” She brought the ale to her lips and rolled her eyes.  
“Hey,” He said sternly, gesturing to the other men. “You’re the only man here who chose to be a man. Everyone else here was born with a penis and the expectation to provide for a family one day. You chose this. So, don’t get all huffy with me when you don’t like something. You made your bed, soldier.”  
She watched him leave, returning to the hoard of rowdy men and retrieving more ale. This wasn’t her idea of a good time, she’d rather be sleeping or curled up with a book. As she watched, though, the unmistakable smell of rotting and roasting pig hit her nostrils again. Slowly, she turned to look behind her. She couldn’t be sure in the darkness of what her eyes were seeing, whether her mind decided where he was standing or she genuinely saw him, but along the treeline he stood, staring her down. Eyeing her like prey. She shuddered and rose to join the men, though she didn’t find it fun, she felt safer there in the group and dreaded the thought of trudging back to bed alone soon. With everything she knew she’d have to do in the morning, the fear and frustration of what would happen once she was alone and all she’d have to exhausted once daylight came, she swallowed hard. Fighting back the urge to project bile from her empty stomach into the fire. She’d focus, instead, she decided, on learning new drinking songs and pretending to more intoxicated than she was.  
That night, she lay underneath her jacket, having no blanket, on the cold ground, praying for some warmth. Her knees were as close to her chest as she could get them to conserve body heat. For a moment, she contemplated taking down the tent and using the fabric to cover herself, but decided against it, it was blocking the wind, afterall, and that chill could kill her.  
Her eyes closed, trying to lull herself to sleep, every single noise seemed to distract her, but none so much as the rustle of the tent flap. Gently, the ends would slap each other, rhythmically in the breeze. When it stayed consistent, she found it soothing, but when it stopped, it would pull her further away from unconsciousness. At first, she didn’t notice when it stopped completely, but the second she realized it had, her eyes flew open, reflexively. Just as she thought, there he was. Burnt and skin peeling away to reveal the pink flesh beneath, thin streaks of blood beneath from where the flesh had pulled the skin away down to the veins that criss crossed his face, and the smell. The unmistakable, revolting smell.  
“Go away.” She whispered. Bits of crispy, blackened skin cracked as he smiled. “Go away.” She hissed, more insistent.  
He leaned over her, hallow sockets staring down into her eyes. She felt frozen in place. The heat coming off of him burned and she bit her lip so not to scream. Closing her eyes, reaching out for snow to cool her with a free hand, she felt tears roll down her cheek and evaporate with his putride breath. The salty taste of her own blood filled her mouth, she hadn’t realized she’d been biting down so hard as she tried to turn her face away from him.  
In the blackness, she could feel his hand come closer but she didn’t expect the pain to flow through her body like that. His fingers wrapped around her neck, taking away her breath and burning her neck. Degory cried out, but, dispite how deeply his hands cut her, she muffled then until the pressure of his firey fingers did it for her. His deformed face blurred behind tears and the darkness that threatened to fill her vision. In desperation, Degory wrapped her fingers around his, trying to pry them away from her windpipe, she dug her nails in reached up to claw and the flesh hanging from his cheek; to tear it away. Suddenly, he growled, angrily, loudly, animalistically, and pulled her closer to him before slamming her head into the dirt hard. The last thing she remembered thinking was how the urine felt running down her thigh.

The morning light didn’t bring much comfort. No one enjoys waking up in a puddle of their own pee next to their own vomit. It would be no ones highlight. Degory felt lightheaded and nauseated. Grateful to be breathing, though. After last night, she feared she may not wake up. Shakily, Degory climbed to her feet and stomped out of the tent like a fawn learning to walk.  
“Degory?” The sound of Lucretias voice was a comfort, but she quickly glanced down at her trousers first, to assure herself there was no obvious puddle. “Oh, thank goodness you’re alright!” Degory didn’t have a chance to stop her before she ran up and threw her arms around her.  
“Yes, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Dug laughed.  
“Some of the men heard an animal in camp last night.”  
“They did?” Degory raised an eyebrow.  
“Oh, my gosh, Dug, your neck!” Her voice was lowered, but anxious and Degory gasped as she prodded at her neck. “How did you get that welt?”  
“I have a welt?”  
“Yes, Dug, its a thin ring all the way around your neck.” Lucretia gently leaded Degory around in a circle. “My God.”  
“I’ve no idea, Lu.” She shrugged at her overly excited friend. ‘“It must have happened in my sleep.” Degory reached up to rub her neck to feel the ring and Lucretia let out another gasp.  
“Those look like fingerprints.” She pulled Degorys hand up to her chest to view it better. There it was, on her wrist, five large finger print looking burns.  
Lucretia pulled her back into the tent and they set down on the ground. On the way in, Lucretia had grabbed some snow and once they sat down, she began piling it onto the burn marks.  
“What is this from?”  
“I don’t know.” Degory lied, shaking her head.  
“I don’t believe that.” Lucretia held the pile snow on her wrist. “Did someone hurt you? We can tell Silas.” Degory scoffed.  
“No one here hurt me and, if they had, I wouldn’t be telling Silas like that.” She could hold back how offensive she found that suggestion. “I can take care of myself.”  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything like that by it…”  
“Then, why did you say it?”  
“I only meant that if you’re having trouble in the camp, maybe Silas can help you out.”  
“Honestly, he wasn’t do very good at helping me out last night.”  
“What did he do?” Lucretia asked.  
“Nothing, its more what he didn’t do.”  
“I definitely understand that.” Lucretia smiled, still holding tightly to her wrist. “Silas, hes.. He’s not like you, Dug. He’s so different.”  
“Different how?”  
“He’s just… He’s not as caring, as quiet, or as gentle.”  
“All things a man wants to be.” Degory said, sarcastically.  
“Well, with a woman, he should.” Lucretia insisted. “Silas is a lot of things. Hes strong, brave, and kind. But, you’re all those things, too, Dug.” She continued. “He just doesn’t listen as well, he’s not as sensitive, and he certainly doesn’t have a touch as gentle as yours.” Lucretias thumb had traveled up to Degory’s face and caressed it, gently tracing its way down to her jaw. Degory felt a tingle in her spine and knew her breath had gotten heavier. When their eyes met, Degory wasn’t certain how to read it, but moved in just the same, telling herself she was just trying to find a more comfortable way to sit on the cold ground. That wasn’t the case, though. When Lucretia followed suit, inching closer and leaning in,Degory’s mind went blank.  
Lucretia’s kiss tasted better than she could have imagined. Her tongue was soft as silk in her mouth, guiding the gentle tide their affections created. Rising and falling like waves.  
The violent sound of the tents flank fluttering open pulled them away from each other.  
“Good, you’re still alive.” Abiel grumbled. “Come out here when you’re done doing whatever you’re doing.”  
“Who’s that?” Lucretia asked.  
“Its Abiel.” Degory pulled herself up to her feet. “He’s…. Hes sort of a friend.”  
“Sort of a friend.” Degory sighed.  
“Its complicated. But, we had a good talk on the walk out here and he drug me to the fire last night.”  
“Not Silas?” Degory shook her head.  
“No, Silas was already out there.”  
“He said he invited you.’  
“He might have, but I don’t remember it. It was Abiel who pulled me out of my tent and out to the group.” Before Degory left the tent, she met Lucretias eyes, begging her to answer a question without making her ask it.  
‘Its fine.” Lucretia whispered. “Just go.”

“What is it?” Degory asked, approaching Abiel.  
“Well, first, I wanted to tell you to be careful with that girl.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Well, you wouldn’t want to catch the clap… seeing as you don’t have anything to clap.” Degory rolled her eyes.  
“If you could stop being vulger for a few moments…”  
“I’m terribly sorry, but I thought you should know, it appears to be everywhere.”  
“Well, thank you, but wasn’t it you suggested that I pursue her?”  
“Yes, of course, but I don’t want you to get sick. Enough of these idiots are sticking their noses where they belong. That doesn’t mean you should get sick as well.”  
“Why do you care?”  
“Because… I think you’ll be useful.”  
“Useful how?”  
“You’re small.” He shrugged. “You can get places I can’t.”  
“I’ve had that suggested before.” She crossed her arms.  
“I bet you have. But, I have a plan I think you can help with… if you become a good soldier.”  
“What exactly is your plan?”  
“Now, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be a secret.”She sighed and rolled her eyes.  
“So, what else did you want?”  
“Some of the ladies said they saw a ghost, but none of the men did.” He studied her face. “Did you see a ghost?”  
“No.” She said, keeping her face expressionless.  
“Well, if thats a lie, its a good one. It needs to be the truth for you, though. Anything to make them think you’re a woman needs to be avoided.” She shifted her weight from one leg to another, still crossing her arms, and let her gaze drift down to her shoes. “And stop looking down.”  
“Men look down all the time.”  
“Not as often as you do and you need to make sure you look people in their eyes.” He kicked at the dirt. “This doesn’t have to be hard. You’ve seen men, you’re surrounded by men, just act like us.” He hissed.  
“Fine. I’ll try.”  
“No, you’ll do better or you’ll die either by our hands or the British. You need to be a good soldier and a good man.” He studied her again from head to toe. “Thats better, now keep your head up and lets go.”  
“Where’s Silas?” She asked, as they made their way back to the fire.  
“I think he’s off with some other men finding water.” Degory felt her mouth twist into a deep frown. Why hadn’t he tried to find her first?  
“You need to make more friends, anyway. He’s been a useless soldier so far.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Have you seen him shoot?” Abiel scoffed. “He can’t run very fast, either.”  
“But, he’s so tall and strong.”  
“That doesn’t mean shit.” He stopped and turn to meet her eyes. “You really have a lot to learn. Most of us men have been taught how valuable we are and in what ways, just like women, but its not the same. It’s about what we can go do. A strong man like Silas is great on a farm, but shit on a battlefield. He runs like a new born fawn and shoots like he’s going blind. You, however, can be more stealthy. You have less weight and size to hide in the dark and if you can shoot worth a damn and be quiet, you will be the deadliest soldier in all of Washingtons army.” He smiled. “Now, come on, theres some cornmeal mush over here. It tastes horrid, but it’s better than an empty stomach.” He called to the other men as he ushered her forward. “Degory, you remember John and Jonas from last night?” He pointed to two men with brown hair and dark eyes, both just a few inches short of six feet. “And this bloke is Ashton.”  
She accepted their hands and shook them as firmly as she could.  
Well, she thought, I guess this is making friends.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

Degory was tired. She was always tired now, though, and cold. Honestly, she knew that things would be better if she had had true friends and not just some men who enjoyed her company as a another man. She couldn’t tell them everything or be herself. It was frustrating and even colder than the harsh winter winds.  
It would be nice if she could tell someone. Anyone. She wished someone other the Abiel could know of her struggle and the trouble she was going through. Her menstral cycle didn’t end just because she looked like a man. It would be nice if it had.  
She was so worn down from the normal process of her body and the physical labor she had she had endure, marching, putting up camp, the training, all of it.  
She was miserable and cranky and needed to stay chipper, so mostly she just kept quiet and to herself. Funny, though, her stalker hadn’t made a night visit recently. Many of the women still claimed they saw a ghost stalking about the camp and she knew, if any of these were to be trusted, it was him. He was out there still.  
Many times, as the sun was going down and they were beginning to look to make camp, she’d see him. Beneath a tree, by a small brook, or off in the distance on the trail ahead of them. Just staring. He would never leave her, she knew. He was angry and vengeful. Always there.  
Stopping was the beginning of some of the worst of the work. It was nice to not be balancing as much on her back or stepping in the bloody footprints before her from her comrades, she could build a fire, someone would dig up some ale, and she could at least have a swig and try to laugh even if it was fake.  
She hadn’t talked to Silas much lately, he claimed he still cared for her and considered her a friend, but something was different. Lucretia, though, Lucretia had been stopping around her tent as often as she’d go off to see Silas. It was nice. She was good company.  
As they set up the camp again that night, she walked over to Degory’s spot again.  
“May I help?” Degory hesitated a moment, but nodded and directed her through setting up the small tent. It was only usefully to block some of the wind, nothing much more, but it made it easier to hold in her body heat with her jacket when it wasn’t fighting the wind off as much. “Some of the men aren’t going to make it tonight.” Degory nodded, not looking up. “Its only going to get colder.” Degory said nothing, still focusing on securing the fabric down. “Dug,” The feel of Lucretias hand on her arm bought her attention and she met her eyes. “Silas has been sharing a tent with some of the other men, have any of them invited you?” She shook her head Another thing Silas had neglected to tell her. “Well, I think we would both be better able to make it through the night if we shared a tent.” Her words were measured. “I have a blanket. It would just be for warmth.” She started to babble on a bit, but Degory interrupted.  
“I think its a good idea.” Lucretia smiled.  
“I’ll go get my blanket.” Degory nodded, heart pounding in her chest, she wasn’t sure why she agreed to this. People in the camp would see her come and go, they would talk. They knew she was ‘Silas’ girl’, this could be trouble for her, but it could also be helpful. Seeing her with a woman could secure her masculinity among a few of them, perhaps. But, what would Silas think? Their friendship was already so precarious, this might kill it.  
“Here.” Lucretia returned, blanket in hand.”Don’t tell the others, but I have two. I lay on one and sleep under the other.” Degory laughed.  
“I’m sure most wouldn’t fault a woman for trying to survive out here.”  
“I’m sure they wouldn’t, but I feel guilty enough as it is. Look at this men out here, some without shoes…”  
“Some ate them.”  
“Yes, because they were hungry.” She defended them. “The Continental Congress doesn’t seem to give a damn about you men out here. Sleeping out in the snow every night.”  
“We’ll be to the winter camp soon, it should be a little better there.”  
“I doubt that very much.” She grumbled.  
“Either way, it’ll be a place to settle temporary and the training will be better.”  
“I hope so.” She frowned. “Maybe I can at least find some fabric to make more blankets. I hope they’ve donated some to the fort up there.”  
“Well, lets stay positive.” Degory smiled, admiring her small little tent before opening the flap. “After you, my lady.” Without thinking, she gave Lu a flirty wink as she gestured toward the inside.  
“This will be fun!” Lucretia smiled, laying down the first blanket.  
“I suppose.” She felt a tingle in the base of her spine as she helped adjust the blanket and set down on one side.  
“When was the last time you shared a bed?” Lucretia asked, Degory hesistated. “I’m sorry, was that indecent?” She blushed.  
“Its fine.” Degory reassured her. “I was married, you know? So it wasn’t that long before we met.”  
“I see.” She looked Degory up and down. “Here.” She grabbed the other blanket and began covering them up with it.Timidly, Degory accepted the blanket and moved closer, slowly leading them both to laying down on the ground. “You’re such a queer man, Degory.” Degory blushed.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, you’re so quiet and unassuming… and mysterious. You’ve barely told me anything about your life before.” Lecretia turned away from Degory and pulled her arm around her body. Gently, she tilted her head back to rest on Degorys chest and looked up into the other womans eyes. “Tell me, Degory, what was your wife like?” Degory swallowed hard and exhaled a small grunt.  
“She… uh, she was very fair and gentle. She was very intent on my happiness. She was a sweet thing.” Degory smiled and looked away, she wasn’t sure what else to say, how to keep the lies from growing too fast and too vast to keep up with.  
“What happened to her?”  
“She got sick.”  
“Thats awful.” Lucretia lifted her hand up and caressed Degorys cheek. “And you had no children?”  
“No.” Degory couldn’t keep her voice from cracking when she said that. “Lucretia, why don’t you tell me about your life. What was your life like before you ran away with two men to join the war?”  
“Well, theres not much to tell.” She shrugged. “Church, Bible studies, prayers…. “  
“Did you have a beau before…?” In the dark, Degory thought she could see the color change on Lucretia’s cheek. “I’m sorry, I….”  
“No, it’s fine. You answered my question.” Degory heard her inhale deeply, preparing herself. “He was a year younger than me,” She started, “Tall and blond, like Silas.”  
“Oh, so, you have a type?” Degory teased.  
“I suppose I do.” Lucretias giggle was like a bell jingling in the dark. “My mother wasn’t happy.”  
“Oh, so you…?”  
“I lost my virtue to him.” Her voice sounded sad and distant. “I shouldn’t have,but I let it happen.” Even in the dark, Degory could hear the tears fall. “I’m so ashamed.” Degory pulled her closer to her chest and, without thinking, planted a kiss on cheek and tasted a singular, salty, tear.  
“There’s no reason to be ashamed.” Degory whispered. “You’re not less of a woman for letting a man know you that way.” Lucretia caught her breath in one big gasp and grabbed Degory’s face, planting her lips firmly against her. Gently, Degory opened her mouth to allow Lucretia to roll hers in behind her lips. There wasn’t a fruit, Degory thought, that ever tasted this sweet. She didn’t want to hurt Lucretia, but she felt her own grip on the other womans arm tighten and she turned Lucretia to face her.  
Excitedly, Degory ran her hand up Lucretias thigh and gripped at the fabric of her bloomers, pulling it taught around Lucretias skin.  
“Degory,” Lucretia pulled away, gasping again. “Do… do you mean to have me?” She asked. Degory thought a moment, unable to read the other womans face properly in the dark and let go of the fabric.  
“No, Lucretia.” She said, shaking her head. “Not like this.” Degory explained. “I don’t think it’d be right… Lets just go to sleep.” Lucretia nodded and turned away from her again and Degory pulled her as close as she could, enjoying the scent of her hair and the feel of her supple skin beneath the fabric of her dress and undergarments. Maybe she shouldn’t have said no, she thought, but what on earth did she think she was doing. This wasn’t done. Was it even right? Should she fight this? Should she repent? Only God truly knew, all Degory knew in that moment was that she couldn’t remember the last time she felt happier or warmer even with only a blanket between her and the nearly frozen ground. Laying here, Lucretia pulled tightly against here, it felt like a sort of heaven.  
In the morning light, Degory expected more looks. Whether it was conceit or paranoia, she wasn’t sure, but she felt that everyone in camp would be watching her. That morning proved her wrong as she rose and opened the flap to wander out to relieve herself.  
“Well, do my eyes deceive me, or did someone become a man last night?” The deep voice startled her and she jumped a bit, trousers still around her ankles, and nearly feel forward.  
“Abiel,” She hissed, “Can’t you grant me a few more minutes of privacy?”  
“Well, to be very honest, I was curious to figure out how a woman would pee in trousers and not get any on them.” He glanced down. “I see its not possible.”  
“It would have been if you hadn’t scared me.” She snarled.  
“Well, then, you didn’t answer my question.”  
“Which question?” Still a bit groggy, Degory stood up to secure her trousers.  
“Did that fair creature in your tent last night make you a man?” Degory scoffed.  
“If you must know, no.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re troubling yourself over that, though. It’s really not your concern.”  
“Of course it is, Sis.” She shot a piercing look at him as she gripped her coat tighter around her.  
“How in the hell is it your business?”  
“Why, I’ve taken you under wing.” He replied. “I want to revel in your joy.”  
“Ugh.” Degory rolled her eyes as she turned on her hell to head back to camp.  
“Oh, don’t be like that, little sis.” She hushed with.  
“Someone will hear you!” Degory hissed.  
“Meh, let them, we’ll be fine.”  
“WE?!” She squealed. “You mean YOU!” Degory stopped in her tracks, still keeping her voice low, and shook her finger at him. “You will be fine, Abiel, but neither of us know what will happen to me.”  
“You’ll be alright.”  
“You can’t guarantee that.” Degory sighed and continued walking on. “I mean, anything could happen.”  
“I know.”  
“That may be scary than the war itself.”  
“I know.” She could feel his eyes on her as they continued their way to camp, trudging through the snow and pushing through the fog created by their own breath. Degory nearly jumped at the feel of his hand on her shoulder. “Are you ok,Dug?” Degory met his eyes. They were deep and brown and, somehow, gentlier than they were a moment ago.  
“I’m fine, Abiel.” She exhaled and he nodded in understanding, removing his hand and taking the lead back to the camp.

Lucretia lay on the ground for a few moments, wrapped in the minimal comfort of the blankets. She wondered where Degory went, but could guess. With a sad sigh, she finally got to her feet, deciding to go find Silas.  
Before pushing through the tent flaps, she peeled out to see if there was anyone that happened to be watching; the camp was a rather small community and she didn’t want things said about her or Dug around the camp. That wouldn’t serve either of them well, anyway, and she’d hate to hurt Silas.  
Thinking back to the previous night, she swallowed hard as she walked through the camp, both relieved and regretful about what happened with her and Degory the previous night. She wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad that Degory chose not to continue on.  
There was a spark in their kiss that she didn’t get when she kissed Silas. It tasted different, it was softer, smoother, gentler, but, somehow, there was an underlying hunger in it. She wanted more. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------  
Licking her lips she could still faintly taste Degary. Packing up the blankets, she shook her head, urging it away. She’d have to return them to hiding before finding Silas again. He never really hid, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t any more distant lately. The war had changed him so suddenly and quickly. Lucretia couldn’t really blame him; she’d seen terrible things herself and heard stories of worse. She was grateful to primarilly confine herself to laundering the uniforms. It’d been so cold, though, she found herself washing them less; the men unable or unwilling to risk frostbite by exposing their skin long enough to attempt to change, if they even had something else to wear. Even in the cold bitter air, the camp had a stentch she couldn’t shake and her senses refused to get use to.  
Cautiously, she found herself discretely looking around, wondering if anyone was gossiping about her and Dug. For all the talk of women being gossiping hens, she found that the solidiers damn near put them to shame with their flapping jaws. They may have just been bored and wanted to ignore how awful things were. No one can blame them for trying to distract themselves from hunger pangs or the deep pain of frost bite that’d sunk deep to their bones. 

“Lu?” A cheerful Silas called out, forcing Lucretia to turn her head. “How did you sleep, my dear?” He approached her, tossing his arm around her shoulder and planting a kiss on her cheek. She faultered, chuckling a bit in discomfort.  
“Um…. I slept well.”  
“Kept warm?”  
“As warm as can be expected.”  
“Glad to hear it.” He sighed, stopped them walking and turned somber. “Some of the men are checking tents… trying to determine if we’re as numerous as last night.’ Lucretia nodded, pulling the blankets closer to her chest and glancing down at her boots. It was a sick feeling, realizing they were counting their dead.  
“I’m glad you’re alright.” She offered, slowly. He merely met her eyes, nodded, and planted a kiss on her brow.  
“And I, you.” He muttered. Lucretias gut churned. If he cared so much, where was he last night? He’d left her to her own devices. She bite her lip and she felt his fingertips grip her hip and pull her closer. In the cold morning air, he was warmer than she’d remembered. “I think I smell coffee.” Another grumble, perhaps it was too early for him to speak clearly consistently yet. Allowing him to guide her around the camp, she listened to the small sounds of fires being set. People gathering wood, smacking flint together, cursing… it was the sound of a typical morning here. That and those passing along the names of the men who hadn’t made it though the night, but that wasn’t nearly as entertaining. “It tastes god awful,” Silas offered her a steeming mug “but it’ll keep you warm.” More silent communication; she gave him a smile and a nod and graciously accepted the hot liquid they called coffee. It didn’t taste anything like she remembered coffee to taste, though, she had to admit, it’d been awhile.  
“Have you seen Degory?” She asked, wincing at the bitter taste in her mouth from the coffee.  
“Not this morning, no.” Silas shook his head. “Are you worried?”  
“No,” Forcing herself to take another drink, she suppressed a gag. “I just wanted to make sure he was alright. He should probably have some coffee,too.”  
“Yeah, lets walk around and see if we can’t find him.” As they walked along, she noticed he never allowed a touch to linger too long. An arm on her shoulder may not be there the very next moment. If it weren’t for the blanket, she thought, there wouldn’t be enough warmth here to sustain her. With feeling back in her face, she could now feel when she bit at her lip and worried it’d be bruised before too long.  
“Is there something wrong, Silas?” She finally asked, as softly as possible.  
“What? No. Everything’s fine.” His eyes grew a bit in genuine surprise.  
“As long as you’re certain.”  
“I’m very certain.” Clutching her tighter, he pulled her close and this time, he didn’t seem so keen to let go.

“I’m just saying” Abiel continued to argue. “You’re playing a part and you need to dedicate yourself to it…. For both our sakes.” Degory rolled her eyes.  
“I’m fine. Either way, I’m fine. No one is truly going to ask questions if I do as I am asked, keep my head low, and can shoot a damn gun.” She sighed. “Which, frankly, is more than I can say for most of these men.”  
“They may see you as a boot licker.” At this suggestion, she snorted. “Well, you need friends. You need allies, you need people to protect you.”  
“I have Lucretia and Silas.”  
“Who know your secret.”  
“Well, I suppose that leaves you.”  
“Exactly. You need people to like you and then someone who knows your secret to help you keep it.”on  
“And how exactly do you intend doing that?”  
“Well, for starters, you’re walking a little too straight.”  
“What?”  
“Relax,push your shoulders back a bit.”  
“But, I….”  
“We’re not in formation, this is your every day walk.” Reluctantly,she obligedand sighed as she let her shoulders fall back. “Good. Now, you still have a bit of a feminine swing in your hips. You have to stop that.”  
“I’m not even sure what you talking about to stop it.” She objected. Abiel shook his head and pulled her behind some trees.  
“You’re moving your hips like this.” He mimicked her walk, enthusiastically. “You need to be more like this.” Relaxed, shoulders back, chest out, hips planted fairly firmly, he took a few steps forward. “Now, you try.” With both his arms, he presented the invisible forest path to her and she begrudgingly attempted to follow his demonstration.  
With a sigh, she attempted to follow his demonstration. He seemed pleased, bringing his hand to his chin as he looked her up and down. If this were her past life; adorned in softer fabrics, a bit of wool to warm her, and some ruffles, she might have blushed. In her current existenc, though, the only color in her cheek was from the chilly winter air. It struck her in the face like a slap, forcing her to suppress grumbles.  
When Abriel began talking again, she met his eyes, trying to focus on everything he was telling her, trying to explain to her. She yawned a bit and stretched, trying to fight a chill on her neck, coming up from behind. Upon realizing she was facing the wind, the hairs on her arms began to stand up, she could feel her eyes widen as she dramatically spun around; demand the trees to give up her phantom. In her gut, Degory knew he was out there. Watching her. Her stomach was tied in knots; wrapped up anger, panic, and fear, tightening like a noose around her middle.  
The strong,warm hand falling down onto her shoulder made her jump, but it didn’t take long to realize it was Abriel.  
“Are you alright?” He seemed to study her face. Wanting to dismiss the episode entirely, she brought out another yawn and nodded.  
“I just thought I heard something.” With a shrug, she tried the walk again, hoping for better this time, and ignoring the fibers of the rope tightening like a belt around her middle. “Wouldn’t want to be found out.” He agreed, but she could tell he didn’t believe her, simply didn’t want to delve into whatever feminine nonsense was bouncing around her head.  
“You’ve learned how to shoot since we last talked, aye?”  
“Aye.” Another nod, still focused on the movement of her hips, she hoped it wouldn’t take long to become second nature.  
“Well?” She scoffed at him.  
“Well enough.”  
“Good.” He cleared his throat. “I’d hate to die because your dainty hands can’t pull a trigger.”  
“These dainty hands can slap you hard enough.” Degory raised an eyebrow and he returned the expression with a smile.  
“Well, its a bit too late to tell you to drop your voice, everyone’s already heard it.” Abriel began to lead the way back to the camp. “I’m not sure it’d make much a difference with your height anyway. So,” he cleared his throat. “Are you just not blessed or have you bandaged them up?”  
“Excuse me?” Cautiously, glancing around the trees a bit, he gestured to his chest with both hands, cupping them.  
“You know,” Abriel leaned in to whisper. “Your breasts.”  
“That’s none of your business.”  
“I’m only saying, you don’t appear flat chested, if you’re wearing bandages, tie them tighter, if you’re not,.... You should.” Subconsciously, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Listen, no worries, just a suggestion. The less opportunity to give people a chance to question your masculinity, the better.” He sighed. “Your swinging your hips again.” Cursing beneath her breath, she steadied them again. “Why did people think you were a man anyway?”  
“I’ve no idea.” She shrugged. “The first time, I was on a horse, but the innkeeper and some of the people I walked by… seemed to believe it as well. I just went with it.”  
“Why?”  
“Because a man like me has options and a woman like me does not.” 

Silas was grateful they didn’t walk more than a few miles that day. The sites made him ill, frankly, many times throughout the day, he thought, perhaps he shouldn’t have become a soldier, and then he’d see Lucretia or hear her laugh and he’d remember. He could do this, he reminded himself, swallowing bile down after seeing several feet of bloody red streaks taper off. He wasn’t sure what the best outcome of that was.  
Most of the march, his thoughts were on Lucretia. It was a nice distraction sometimes, until he started worrying about his progress. If this was how he was marching in snow for but a few miles, how on earth would survive the battlefield?  
I suppose, he thought, I’ll die or prove myself worthy.  
Those were the only options he truly saw before him. Fighting off the urge to drag her off to his tent every night was more than he could bare, but he wouldn’t have the entire camp think she was his ‘whore’, she was more than that.  
Maybe, one day, he could tell her he did this all for her. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Degory suppressed a grumble, pulling Marco close to her. She’d missed him and worried about him incessantly.  
“I’m glad he’s holding on still.” Degory wasn’t expecting to see Lucretia, she figured that she’d be a little longer.  
“I agree. He’s a good friend.”  
“Probably more loyal than most people.” Lucretia crossed her arms and twisted her lips into a frown as she leaned in to pet Marco.  
“Something wrong?”  
“A lot of things, but I need not bother you with it.” Degory rolled her eyes and pulled an apple out of her pocket. It didn’t look fresh or like a very good fruit, but it look healthy enough.”Where’d you find that?”  
“I bought it awhile back.” She whispered, offering the fruit to, what must have been, a famished horse. “The cold weather has helped them keep longer, but its been hard keeping them.”  
“The poor thing.” Lucretia appeared as though she might cry. Marco didn’t look mistreated, in fact, he appeared to be one of the healthier horses in their ranks. Truthbetold, it was probably why he was still alive.  
“I hate this war.” With that, a single tear did break through. Unable to hold back any longer, Degory insisted.  
“Please, Lucretia, tell me whats going on.” She pleaded, raising an eyebrow.  
“Fine.” Lucretia sighed and wiped the water from her cheek before it could begin to freeze. “I don’t know what to make of Silas.” Lucretia shook her head. “He seems to still love me, but he won’t touch me much and he hasn’t…. Thats not important…”  
“Are you trying to say you to haven’t been…. Intimate lately?”  
“Maybe once, since we left town.” Lucretia responded, quietly, looking away and pulling her right arm closer to her with her left.  
“I’m sure its just the stress.” Degory offered, gently breaking Lucretia’s self soothing hug to reassuring hold her left wrist. “Everything is fine. I’m sure.”  
“Its not just that…” She licked her lips before biting at her bottom one. “His new friends… I don’t like them. Especially this one…” Lucretias eyes wandered away. Degory knew that look. She knew that look so very well. She’d seen it on her mothers face after an argument with her drunken father, her sisters face the week she came home after she married, and she’d felt that expression paint her face before.  
“Who was it?” She insisted, emboldened by her new identity. No longer a meek, wilting flower; clay in her husbands hands… at least not in this moment.  
“Deg, its not like that.”  
“The hell it isn’t. Tell me his name.” Nervously, she pulled at the whethered gloves on her hands and stuttered a bit. “I need his name, now, Lu. He won’t stop on his own. They never do.”  
“How would you know?”  
“How wouldn’t I know?” Her eyes must have been fierce when Lucretia met them, they seem to both soothe her and give her the strength to speak the name.  
“Mark.” She whispered. With a nod, Degory gave Marco another pat and kiss on the forehead, before turning on her heels and marching off.  
“Degory, wait…” The voice was panicked and Degory didn’t blame her for that. “It wasn’t like that he just…. He really enjoys grabbing at me and he…. He does it to all the girls…. it s all in fun.”  
“Obviously, its not fun to you.”  
“But, he doesn’t mean any harm.”  
“But, he’s harmed you!” Degory insisted, stopping in her tracks and turning to meet Lucretias eyes. “You’re not going to stop me, so don’t waste your breath. This man is making you uncomfortable and, probably, several other women and they all feel like they can’t speak up, so I will do it for them. Now, if you don’t mind, I want you to point him out to me.”  
The determined stepped that Degory had taken, wider than usual, had finally brought them to the main fire. It was large and would light the area well once the sun went down. With a swallow so hard, Degory could see, Lucretia raised a shaking arm with a determined index finger erect; pointing out a young man with stringy red hair, roughly a foot taller than Degory.  
That didn’t scare her.  
Sure, she was scared of many things, but a bully wasn’t one of them. There were things far more terrifying than this arrogant coward before her. Head held high and hips squared, Degory returned to her previously determined pace; focused on her goal.  
“Pardon me, Mark, is it?” The mans ears seemed to physically perk up at the sound of his name. “Might I have a word, sir.” With that laugh on bully’s give when approached by an underdog, her Goliath stand in set down his drink, and stood to approach her.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“My name is Degory, sir.” She gave a slight bow of her head. “I’ve come to ask that you kindly stop giving my good friend, Lucretia there, the type of attention I understand you’re want to give the fairer sex. See, she does not have the appreciation for your games as some of the other ladies may.” Another belly laugh and belch that smelled of a bad stand in for beer.  
“This is a camp, sir, and shes a camp follower, if she doesn’t want a soldiers nose to sniff out her dainty clam, perhaps she should stop at the town.”  
“Or perhaps you can respect my request to leave your filthy grubby hands off her body and your blotchy tiny nose away from her clams.” This mans laugh was getting annoying to her, but she knew what he’d say next.  
“And if I don’t?”  
“Then I’ll punch you in the nose.” In her mind, she was trying to decide what animal could possibly make the sound he made when he guffawed.  
“I’d like to see you try.”  
“Very well.” While he was still roaring, eyes not fully open, she popped him in the face as hard as she could. He reared back, covered his face, given her clearance to lower ‘nose’ he’d been referencing earlier, which she hit even harder and swifter, attempting to work before the pain registered with her and she walked away, leave him to roll around in the snow, howling drunkenly. 

“What in blazes was that?” A flustered looking Silas approached her, cheeks a bit pink from either the weather or confusion.  
“He was being inapproapriate with Lucretia…”  
“What?”  
“And I took care of it.” Mouth agap, Silas glanced back and forth between the two of them.  
“You didn’t think to tell me he was being disrespectful?” Lucretia didn’t speak for a moment, biting at her lip a bit and glancing away. After a brief silence, she softly spoke.  
“Silas, you didn’t ask and … well, he’s your friend, I didn’t want to….”  
“It’s fine.” Silas scoffed and shook his head before walking away.  
“You didn’t have to do that, Deg.” Lucretia grabbed her arm and pulled Degary’s ear close enough to her lips that her warm breath brought feeling back into the numb lobes.  
“Yes, I did.” She said, firmly. “He was making you very uncomfortable and, now, maybe he’ll think twice before being such a rascal.” Lucretia smiled, blinking rapidly a few times, a bit surprised.  
“Thank you.” Softly, she placed her lips against Degs cheek, sending a warm tingle through her whole body. “I’m going to see if I can go calm Silas.” Swollowing hard, she nearly nodded at Lu and watched her walk away, searching for her beau.  
“You’re adorable, you know that.” Degory suppressed a groan as she turned to face Abriel.  
“Must you harrass me so?” Abriel chuckled.  
“Don’t act like you don’t like me.” Crossing her arms, she let out a sigh. He had definitely been useful so far. “If you don’t mind me saying, though, it’s not really gentlemanly to hit a man below the belt. Thats not something we men tend to do to eachother.” She could feel her eyes get wide; worried about this faux pas she’d committed in the world of men she’d injected herself into. “Don’t worry too much, I’m sure they’ll blame your height.” He shrugged, “but I wouldn’t be so keen to do that again.”  
“Well, I certainly didn’t want to.” Abriel gave a mischievious grin.  
“So,...”  
“So, what?” Turning away, she began to walk away, off into the woods and away from the men.  
“How’d it feel?”  
“How’d what feel?”  
“Why, defending a womans honor, risking getting called onto the field…. Bet your blood is really pumping after that.”  
“How does it feel?” She raised an eyebrow before rolling her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t see the hint of a grin she was trying to hide. “My fist hurts.” Abriel laughed.  
“It usually does, but we can work on that.”  
“You think?”  
“Of course.” He gave her a pat on the back. “You’re going to be one hell of a soldier, little sis.” He whispered, following her to Marco, where they could chat more freely, away from the others.  
“You need to be careful of calling me that.” She warned.

That night, when everything starting to get quiet, again, Lucretia came to the tent. Looking uncertain.  
“What is it?” Degary asked, and Lu pulled her into the tent.  
“I don’t know what’s right,” She said, looking like she was holding back tears as she sat down on the blanket. Deg joined her.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, I’m with Silas.”  
“But..”  
“I don’t know if hes the man I want anymore.” Their eyes met for a moment, and Deg couldn’t help herself, she pulled her closer and pressed her lips to Lus’. “I don’t want to hurt him.” A tear fell from her eye. Deg brushed it away and shushed her, done with holding back and pulled her into a more passionate kiss.  
Laying her down, and not wanting to expose Lu’s skin to the elements, she decided to just move her hand up underneath her dress, rather than pulling it off of her, as she knew they both wanted.  
Still kissing her, feverishly, her hands traveled up her bodice to gentle rub at Lu’s nippled through the fabric. Lu let out a small moan and grabbed at Degs arm. With her free hand, Deg decided to travel into her bloomers, finding her partner already growing more moist from her ministrations and, she was sure, lack of attention for so long. Another moan as her fingers found her mound and began to rub it, tenderly, in small circles. In response, Lu gave a quiet cry and gripped her arm tighter. After several minutes, and many several bites at kisses at the breasts that lay before her, Lus hands had wandered, grabbing at Degs back and both arms, until Deg could finally feel her nails digging in and Lucretia pulled back. Wanting air as she rode out her orgasm and tilted her head back. She leaned into Deg’s shoulder as she cried out her name at the lowest volume she could, her teeth pulling at the fabric of Deg’s second hand blouse, to muffle her cries more.  
When she was finished, Deg brought up her fingers, the adventures that had wandered Lucretias body and brought her to her peak, and made fierce eye contact with she licked the milky white secretions Lu had left there off her fingers.  
Overcome, Lu pulled her in for another kiss, no doubt tasting herself on Degs lips. Following Degs example, Lu began to gently pull at Degs trousers and she pulled away.  
“I’m sorry, Lu” She stuttered a bit. “I just…” She didn’t need to finish, Lucretia looked confused, but understanding and let go of her pants with a slight nod. “Lets just go to sleep… if thats alright.” Another nod and they laid down, this time, though, Deg held Lu as close to her chest as she could, breathing in the scent of her hair and giving small kisses at the back of her neck. 

The next morning, they were off, again. Silas was still angry at Deg and couldn’t quite swallow his anger; it was his job to defend Lucretia, not Degs. His friend had stuck their nose in where it didn’t belong and, now, Silas was left contemplating what the proper response should be. Perhaps, this should be settled on the field. Truthbetold, he didn’t want to hurt his friend, just defend his rightful place as his ladys’ defender and protector. This was awful.  
Then, there was Lucretia. Why hadn’t he noticed his friends behaviors or his loves discomfort? He could have fixed this. He knew he could. And now he was left feeling even less of a man. It didn’t help his aim with a musket was poor and he was slow on his reload. That he was surrounded by men faster than him who weren’t as tall as strong as he was. That didn’t have his upbringing or, as his father had tried to tell him, the good breeding he had. He should be better. He didn’t deserve Lu. He never had. But, having a moment where he could have earned her love, even just a little more, hurt him. This was a great betrayal and it had been done by a friend no less.  
Trudging through the bloody snow, he tried to refrain from peeling at his chapped lips with his teeth. All he needed was a bit of frostbite anywhere. Having his face exposed to the winds was bad enough, he didn’t need to moisten any of it on top of that.  
“Silas,” His friend sneered in a nasally voice, still nursing a broken nose. “You said that Deg gent was your friend?” With a sigh, Silas nodded. “Well, some friend.”  
“I know,” A head shake this time, “He was trying to do what he thought was right.”  
“Well, I intend to settle this like gentlemen when we stop tonight.”  
“You can’t be serious.” Again, someone was stepping in where he felt he should.  
“Yes, I am.” Silas wasn’t certain whether his friend was red from the cold winds, his broken nose, or pride, but he’d taken on the color of an apple. “You don’t embarrass another man in that manner. Its not right. I demand satisfaction.”  
“There has to be a better way.”  
“No, I intend to do this right, unlike your tiny friend.” He spat the last few words, as if they tasted worse than cornmeal mush. “I’ve been shooting since I left my mothers teet and I intend to let God decide the outcome.”  
“Truly, I don’t think thats wise.” Silas stuttered a bit.  
“Thats a pity,” The friend continued, “I was going to ask you to be my second.”  
“Your second?”  
“Yeah.” For a brief moment, Silas chewed on this. He felt either way he’d be pulled into this but the moment his friend brought up the duel, he had figured on being Degary’s second. Now, who would they use as their second? Deg hadn’t seemed to have amassed a large amount of friends and women weren’t typically chosen to be involved in mens affairs. Silas swallowed hard; mostly worry and uncertainty of what this would mean for Deg and apologized, accepting the offer of second.  
“Good.” The friend spat. “We’ll teach the tiny arsworm a lesson he won’t forget.” Silas felt himself tense a bit again, he intentionally shook his head to release it and continued walking. As they continued on, the friend continued to complain about Deg. Calling them a ‘bastard’, ‘a rascal’, and several creative jabs at their height. Silas mostly kept silent, half heartedly chuckled when he felt it was appropriate,but he was merely keeping up appearances. After what Lucretia and Deg had told him his friend had done and the jokes he was telling, Silas wasn’t certain he felt associating with him was something he wanted, but how could he walk away now?  
This was definitely not what he hoped to find when he had joined the army.  
All he wanted was to earn a woman. This was all for Lucretia and, now, he worried her affections were waning and his heart ached.  
Perhaps, he should do something for her, something kind. Not something crude and unbecoming, but romantic. The last thing Silas wanted was for them to be talking about his sweet Lucretia the way he heard them talk about the other women that followed the camp; even wives. She deserved so much better than that.  
He wondered when Congress would send their pay. That might give him the funds to buy her some sort of trinket; a symbol of his love. Everytime he had been seeing her with Degary now, he felt her slipping further away from him and the ache in his chest and stomach only grew in comparison. 

Degary was tired. Very tired in so many definitions of the word. In the treeline, she kept thinking she heard him; her stalker, russell amongst the trees. Convinced the lack of sleep and the marching were getting to her head, she kept facing forward. She couldn’t trust her own eyes to watch the woods. It wasn’t exactly in the nature of a red coat to hide in the trees and jump out to attack, she knew, but she should still be aware of her surroundings. Her surroundings were all him. Him just inside the darkness the branches created; staring out at her with cold, dead eyes. He would never leave her be, she knew. Whether this was the product of an undernourished and fatigued mind, or the monster was still dragging his corpse behind her, she did not know; it felt real enough to her, but she still questioned her sanity, daily.  
Watching the blood trails the lead the way forward in the snow was her main focus. War was bad enough, she didn’t need this battle, too.  
It was fine, she thought, all wars end someday.  
“You alright?” Abriel asked, leaning over off of Marco, she nodded. “As long as your sure.”  
“Just a little tired,” She explained, “We all are.”  
With a look of acknowledgement, he returned her nod and faced forward again.  
“He’s mad, you know.”  
“What?” Her eyes flitted up to meet his.  
“He’s angry and not quite sane.” Abriel gestered back to the gentleman she’d punched the night before. “I believe he’ll want satisfaction.”  
“Satisfaction?” With a scoff, she shook her head. “I’m sure he will and I don’t intend to give it to him.”  
“Typically, thats not how it works.”  
“Then, pray tell, how does it work?” Abriel’s face wrinkled a bit.  
“Well, if you’re challenged to a duel, you must accept.”  
‘Why?”  
“It’s the rules. Its how men behave.”  
“Then what?”  
“Well, you’ll need a second.”  
“I see where this is going.” Another head shake.  
“Well, you can’t very well use Silas.”  
“No, I guess not.”  
“Well, he’ll challenge you, you’ll accept, and then your seconds will meet and see if a peace can be had.”  
“If he feels so embarrassed, without any thought to how he made Lucretia feel, and, I’m certain several other women, then we will have to shoot each other.” It was obvious to him, she was fuming. “He doesn’t think his behavior has ever made a woman feel that way? That there aren’t women where his from or marching with us that would be happy to take their shot at him?” More head shaking and a foggy sigh released from her lips. “No, sir. Let us meet on the field if he wishes it so.”  
“I see, so, you’re mad, too.”  
“I’m certain, my good man, we are all mad here.” Abriel couldn’t help but smile at this. She would get herself in trouble, he knew, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t about to enjoy the show. They hadn’t seen battle yet, but it already seemed his adopted little sister was out for blood and it was almost proud. It worried him, though, how she’d handle things in camp; he’d heard they had organized their training in new ways and it was going to be an intense winter for them all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.

Degory held her breath as she watched Lucretia approach her tent.  
“Hi.” She breathed, nearly choking on her own spit with the words. “How was the journey for you?”  
Lucretia didn’t answer, simply pulled her into the tent and kissed her passionately.  
“Deg,” she whispered, softly. “I don’t think another man has ever touched me like you did.”  
“Oh…” she swallowed hard.  
“I missed you.”  
“Oh…” Degory struggled to speak, trying to keep herself from shaking a little.  
“I thought of you all day.” Lucretia’s breath on her ear sent a chill through her, she wanted, no, needed Lucretia now. Without any hesitation, it’s finally gathered, she pulled Lucretia into another kiss and lead her down onto the frozen ground. Taking off her jacket, she handed it to Lu to place behind her head.  
“Lay back.” She ordered, voice deep, as she ran her fingers up her paramore's pantalet to find her deep, wet, warm and welcoming genitals. Lucretia’s sigh and a returned kiss was the only proof of consent she needed as they lost themselves into the night.  
It never felt as cold with her. It, also, never felt as meaningful as it did with her. The look in her eyes when she reached her peak, clawing at Degory in an effort to not cry out, was more enjoyable than any orgasm she’d had before.  
Degory thought she always tasted a bit like fruit; there was a sweetness to her juices she’d compare with an exceptional apple or a peach. She couldn’t wait to submerge herself in her delicate wetness or lick the white, frothy results of a job well done from her fingers; staring Lucretia, hungrily in the eyes.  
She thought she’d sleep better that night.  
The grip burned when it gripped around her ankle, pulling her from her sleep with a cry. Degory felt herself being pulled out of the tent. In a panic, she glanced down, and could see his face. The charred, black skin peeling away to reveal the bloody pink flesh beneath. Try as she might, she couldn’t free herself from his grasp. Not wanting to wake Lucretia or draw any attention to herself, she kicked and kept herself from screaming. She could feel her feet making contact with him; pounding at his broad chest with all her might. He groaned and with a free hand reared his fist back and punched her in the face. The pain didn’t deter her. She’d taken his punches to the face before and she’d do it again if she had to. She thrashed harder, putting all her force into her legs. As they came into a more wooden area, he began to bounce her head against the trees he was pulling her around. He whipped her around with such force, she became disoriented and wasn’t sure what direction they were heading now or how far away they were from camp now.  
Suddenly, he stopped and threw himself on top on her.  
“No!” She hissed, pushing away his molting face. He leaned back to smack her again, his move gave her space climb her feet up his chest and push his face away with her feet.  
Using his size to his advantage, he grabbed her feet and flipped her over, sending her over a bank and tumbling down a hill.  
And she was alone again.  
As quick as she could, she pulled herself to her feet and ran. Dizzy and confused, she stumbled a bit, trying to create distance and find safety. Soon, after running several feet, she found the water and kept running until she was waist deep. Even in the moonlight, she could see the water getting darker. She knew what it was and kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner.  
“Deg?” A voice called out to her from the bank.”Are you ok?”  
For a moment, she stared at Abriel, trying to make sense of everything.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I need cotton.” She finally mustered. “Lots if clean cotton.” 

Silas swallowed hard as he approached Degory. They looked tired and a bit ragged and he found himself wishing he’d tracked Deg down the night before.  
“Deg,” he felt his voice crack a bit as he spoke. “Mark has challenged you.” Degory scoffed a bit.  
“What do you mean?”  
“He wishes to meet you on the field.” After a moment of consideration, the smaller soldier nodded.  
“I understand.”  
“I can’t be your second.”  
“Very well.” Degory simply shrugged.  
“Alright, well,....” Degory was already walking away. “Send your second to talk to me, perhaps we can sort this out.”  
“Thank you, sir.” Silas trotted back up to meet his friends pace.  
“Don’t you understand?” He continued. “Mark wishes to meet you on the field…. he means to shoot you. You could die.”  
“I understand very well, sir. What I don’t understand is your concern. You’re to talk to my second, not me.”  
“Deg, you’re my friend.”  
“You haven’t been acting like it since we’ve been off. We’ll be at camp tomorrow and I doubt your behavior will change then. Even now, you’ve chosen a friend who repeatedly disrespected the woman you profess to love over me.”  
“What would you like me to say? What could I possibly do to fix this?”  
“Well, nothing right now. Mark is embarrassed and wants satisfaction. I’ll obliged him.”  
Silas wasn’t sure how to respond and let Degory walk away.

Immediately, Degory sought out Abriel. He would know how to handle this and she didn’t need to panic; they’d expected this anyway.  
“It’s as you said,” she began, approaching him at his spot by the fire he was poking absent mindedly. “Mark wants to see me on the field. Will you be my second?” With a deep sigh, he rose and nodded, his body language gave her the impression that, perhaps, he’d had experience with this before. It wouldn’t surprise her, but she wasn’t about to ask. “Thank you, we should prepare then. You’ll need to speak with Silas as well, he’s Mark second.”  
“Let me get my dueling pistols, we can practice a bit.” She followed him back to his bag. “Of course, you’d get yourself in trouble. I must say, though, in many places, your first duel is a rite of passage.” He smiled a bit as he pulled the box from the bottom with some effort.  
“Well, it seems only right that I become a man at this point ; I’ve been posing as one for so long.” Delicately, she reached into the box and slowly pulled one of the pistols from its place. They seemed a bit decorative for such dangerous things; well cleaned, they shined in the sunlight. No less blinding then the light that bounced off the snow.  
“Is it loaded?” She asked, further examining it.  
“You should always act as though it is, but no.” With yet another heavy sigh, he passed her some ammo. “Go find a safe place to practice, I’ll find Silas.”

Needs some sort of transition.  
It didn’t take Abriel too long to find Silas. Given his height, he generally stuck out like a sore thumb, which didn’t seem to bother the much taller, fair haired man.  
“Silas,” Abriel approached him and offered his hand, for a moment, Silas seemed confused and froze, but soon took the beer, or what they were calling “beer” anyway, from his lips and passed it from his right to left hand to accept Abriels hand. “Sir, I come to you to discuss the… disagreement our two friends seem to have.”  
“Whos second are you?” Silas rolled his eyes and Abriel merely chuckled, of course, Mark must have a laundry list of complaints.  
“Degary.” The expression that swept across Silas’ face was a mix of surprise with a slight flash of hurt.  
“I see.” He nodded, bringing the nearly frozen drink up to his mouth again. “Would you like some, sir?” Abriel shook his head and declined politely.  
“Lets take a bit of a walk, shall we, sir?” Unhappily, Silas followed, leaving Abriel to wonder how many walks he’d already been on this evening. “So, we understand the offense….”  
“Yes.”  
“Gentleman should not exchange blows.”  
“Of course not.”  
“So, you agree?”  
“Agree with what?”  
“Well, that Mark gave first offense and therefore he should be the one to apologize.” Silas laughed.  
“Would you like to tell him that?”  
“No, but you should. We should be conducting ourselves like gentlemen here and Mark has not been exhibiting behavior becoming of gentleman.”  
“Mark should not have even been approached in such a manner.”  
“How else was Degary to defend his ladys honor?” Suddenly, Abriel got the feeling that the red color in Silas’ cheeks was not from the cold wind; it was far too gentle that evening and the look in his eyes gave that away.  
“Ms Lucretia is my lady, not Degarys.”  
“Forgive me, sir, but I truly believe that the past few days would say otherwise.” Silas lost control for a moment, giving into the anger that Abriel had seen in his eyes a moment ago, he lunged forward, grabbing Abriel by the shoulders and pinning him against a tree. For nearly a full, tense, minute, Silas just stood there; breathing hard and staring down threatenly into Abriels face.  
“Are you quite finished, sir?” Abriel asked, finally breaking the silence. Roughly, Silas dropped him and turned to retrieve the tin cup he’d been using.  
“Ask Deg where he’d like to meet and send word at your earliest convenience, sir.” 

Needs some sort of transition  
Degory held her breath as she raised the gun, aiming at the tree.  
So, Degory and Abriel spent the rest of the evening in the woods.

Lucretia ran up to Degory, almost breathless.  
“Where were you?” She hissed, worry painting her face.  
“I was off preparing for tomorrow morning.” She swallowed hard, meeting Lucretia’s eyes.  
“So, you mean to do this?” She shook her head. “I’m so disappointed.”  
“I’m sorry you feel that way. That’s not my intention at all.”  
“You think you’re doing this for me? This madness could get you killed.”  
“I see know reason to apologize for my actions and Mark has no intention of apologizing for his either, so, this is how gentlemen ….”  
“Don’t give me that. I thought you were better than this, Mr Mauz.”  
“Lu, please, don’t call me that.” Gently, she reached out and took Lucretia’s hand.  
“Then, don’t do this.” She pleaded in a whisper, drawing closer to rest her forehead against Degs. “Please.” Her lips felt so soft pressed against Degs chapped ones, Deg nearly pulled away, a bit embarrassed by their harshness in comparison to hers, but she didn’t seem deterred, so she pressed them together harder.  
“It’s done, Lu. I’m very sorry, but I can’t stop this.” A warm tear fell from Lus cheek to Degarys.  
“I don’t want to lose you, not like this.”  
“Then, stay with me. Here. Tonight.” Lucretia responded with another warm kiss before pulling Deg beneath the shelter of the fabric hoisted up as a tent.  
In the dark, eyes closed, Deg slowly brought her hand up Lucretias thigh. She couldn’t get enough of her; her smell, her delicate flesh. She didn’t even need to see her face in the darkness of the tent, just hear her breathing and moans.  
“Deeper, Deg.” She pleaded. Immersed in her, Deg lost all focus but on her lovers tones.  
“I want to taste you.” Deg whispered, giving a gentle bite to Lucretias exposed bosom as she traveled her way down between her legs. Beneath Lu’s skirt, Deg found her quickly. The moisture of her pleasure painted Degs face. The only noise in the darkness was Lucretia asking for more between the rise and fall of her orgasms.

Deg was kicked awake the next morning. The sun hadn’t rose yet, but that was to be expected.  
“Rise and shine.” Abriel groaned, glumly. “Get your arse up.” Deg wiped the sleep from her eyes and met him outside the tent, careful to disturb Lu and little as possible. “Does Silas know she’s been sleeping here?” Deg shrugged.  
“If he doesn’t, he hasn’t cared enough to come checking in on her, so why should either of us care?” Abriel chuckled a bit, passing the yawning Deg a warm drink. It was suppose to be coffee, but they both knew it wasn’t really coffee. The taste was similar enough, she supposed, and the liquid warm enough that it didn’t matter much. The heat burnt her lips enough to wake her up more than caffeine could do properly anyway.  
“I need to pee.” She announced in a whisper, wandering a bit away from Abriel into the woods beyond him. Seeking out a tree under his protection was always better than going alone, but she knew it’d look questionable if she sought him out everytime she needed to relieve herself. Soon, she knew she could die or have killed someone and she didn’t want to think about it. After trying to avoid peeing on her trousers, she followed Abriel out to the clearing where theyd agreed to meet that morning, just as the sun was making its way into an overcast sky. There was a man she didn’t recognize standing with Mark and Silas; he seemed unhappy to be there.  
“Who’s that?” She asked in a whisper.  
“That’s the doctor they agreed to bring.” Abriel seemed a bit confused, she dismissed it.  
“Sorry, I forgot, I must still be tired.”  
“Well, you better wake up fast.” He grumbled, stepping forward to meet the other men. It was then she finally noticed he’d been carrying the case with dueling in it. Deg wondered to herself if there were rules about bringing along such things to camp but quickly dismissed it. If they got caught, all of them would be in some of sort trouble anyway. From a distance, she watched them examine the guns.  
“Degory,” Silas called out, just above a whisper. “Do you intend to stand there all day.” Right, she remembered, she was to examine the guns as well. In a vain attempt to brush the sleep away, she shook her head from side to side and approached with an apology. It was hard to remember what she was suppose to be looking for as she examined Marks gun, but she trusted Abriel, so followed his lead.  
“Are you ready?” Her second asked.  
“As ready as I could possibly be.”  
Along with Silas, Abriel began to loaded the guns in front of each other, as was custom, before passing them off to Deg and Mark. Back to back with her opponent, Deg swallowed hard. Even before the counting began, she wanted to run, but that was not something she could not do now. The time for running had passed.  
1…..2…...3….4….  
Every step forward felt a bit like a death march.  
5…..6….7….8…  
She was beginning to grow inpatient, she wanted this done now. Maybe, whatever happened here this morning would gain her some respect… or expose her.  
9…. 10.  
The smoke and pop of the guns filled the air as they turned on their heels and shot. Deg cried out, feeling a sharp pain in her shoulder, she hadn’t noticed Silas standing over Mark until the dust settled.  
“Let me see, let me see.” Abriel insisted. Gently taking her hand to mess with the fabric of her shirt sleeve, which, she could now see, was stained with blood. It must have been shock, she decided, that took all feeling from her arm and thought from her brain. There was blood still come out of her body, coloring the blouse a new, deep, red, but she felt nothing. It didn’t sting anymore. Abriel held her arm and examined it, carefully. Degary could see his lips, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. The words floating away from her; distorted and muffled. It must have taken a good few minutes for Degory to register that Abriel was just chatting idly.  
“I’m sorry,” She finally managed to say, beginning to brush off her stuper.  
“I said this doesn’t look bad.” It was becomeing clearer and cleaer to her that Abriel was by no means a morning person, or liked duels. “You should be alright. We just need to get it bandaged. We can rinse it off in the water and I’ll take a better look, but I think you were just grazed.”  
“Grazed?”  
“Yes,” he nodded. “I think it didn’t get into your arm, just rip through some flesh here.” Still not herself, fully, it occured to her that Silas and Mark had brought a doctor with them. If the doctor wasn’t over here tending to her, but could that mean. She was a bit irritated, at first, thinking, perhaps, that the other three had simply run off after drawing blood from her.  
“Wheres the doctor?” She finally asked. Abriel gave a small, surprised, half smile, though, his eyes held some concern. The doctor, Deg realized, was preoccupied with Mark. She brushed Abriel away and stumbled forward towards Mark and looked down at him. “Is he alright?” Roughly, Abriel grabbed her unwounded arm and pulled her back.  
“You can’t talk to him, now.” He insisted, but she pushed him away, pushing herself between the doctor and Silas.  
“Mark, are you ok?” She pleaded, glancing him up and down. The two men had been chatting about how best to get him back to camp. There was a large, red spot growing just to the side of his naval. “Mark?” She gave him a bit of a shake, but his eyes, glassy and greying, starred up at the sky, His chest was raising and lowing, she could see, but what had happened was clear. Unable to stop herself, she was shaking with the realization of what, exactly, she had done and what it meant. “Please, Mark, say something.” Degarys voice sounded paniced now, she knew, and more feminine than she had intended. With unearthly grace, the mans eyes gently rolled to rest on her. The glassiness gone, now a deluded, pale, green; another color was trying to come through the normally brown eyes.  
“Don’t act like you’ve never killed a man before.” He grunted, before laughing at her. She sucked in air and threw herself back. Away from him. The features on Marks face looked distorted and blackened in many areas, others were a pink streaked with red. It wasn’t Mark. It was Him. She hadn’t been stupid enough to think she’d lost him, but there he laid before her; ungodly face twisted into a smile; taunting her.  
Silas and the doctor placed themselves between her and Mark as they began to pick him up to leave the site. Degary didn’t think she sat there, still marinated in shock, very long, but she had no way of know. When Abriels hand fell onto her unwounded shoulder, she gasped as she turned to look up at him.  
“Its time to leave.” He said, calmly. “This is over now.”  
“What did you say?” She called after him, panicked. “What did he say?”  
“Deg, lets go?” Abriel insisted. Degary felt his arm wrap around her middle and hoist off the ground, onto his should.  
“What did he say?” She screamed again, after the retreating doctor and Silas.  
“Stop this!” He hissed at her, carrying her into the trees. They were surrounded by bird songs and the other sounds of a morning in the trees. As she tried to bring herself back to reality, which she hadn’t had a grip on since she woke up that morning, she closed her eyes and realized she was hearing the burble of the small body of water that flowed near the camp; that she had ran into the night before. If she was unhinged from reality and had no sense of what was real, she quickly came to as the water rushed around her.  
“Stop screaming.” He demanding, slapping her. “Does your monthly visitor affect you this month? Have you lost your damn mind?” Jaw slack and shaking from the cold, she merely stared at him. “I’m going to start a fire. Don’t need you to die, too.”  
“He’s dead?” She asked. He nodded in response.  
“Or will be. You shot him in the hip, it looks.” Dragging herself on the shore, she finally felt herself collapse into tears. Though Abriel seemed a bit reluctant, he walked over and hugged her, making sure to hush her. “You can’t do that here. You’re a man, remember.” Tearfully, she nodded.  
“You’re right.” She stepped back from him, finally gathering herself. “I just… I haven’t been sleeping well and I’m not sure I’m in my right mind this moment.” He gave her a stern nod and walked away to continue gathering wood. The time didn’t mean much to her at that moment. She’d seen his face again, heard his voice again, nothing was right with the world that day. It hadn’t been she left home with Marco. All she wanted was to run away again, but she knew she’d never shake him anyway.  
“Have a seat and warm yourself.” Silas had found a log and a rock near the water that were perfect to use as chairs. “I guess you have more to learn about being a man than we both thought.” He must have seen the confusion in her eyes. “Well, its not very gentlemanly to claw at the face of a man you just shot in a duel. You’re not even suppose to approach him. You had your chance to talk it out and -”  
“When did I claw his face?”  
“You can’t be serious.” He scoffed. “Its why I pulled you away, I mean, breaking away from your second to help your opponent isn’t polite, but its forgivable. You asked if he was alright, he made eye contact and you just exploded. Started screaming and asking him what he said.”  
“I remember asking him what he said, but I don’t remember clawing at him.”  
“I’m fairly certain you’ll find half his face underneath your fingernails.” From what seemed like no where, Abriel pulled out an apple and handed it to her. “Here, you seem to need this more than me.”  
“Whered you get this?”  
“A long while back. That cold keeps them longer.” Cautiously, she took a bite. It was nice to have something sweet. She did decide, though, she wouldn’t finish it, she would take at least half back to Marco.  
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”  
“I’m not often embarrassed. I think you just need to learn the rules a bit better.”  
“You’re right.”


	10. Chapter 10

The camp smelled. Silas hadn’t expected it to smell like roses, but the stench wasn’t anything he was use to by any stretch of the imagination. The place looked bleak. Some of the men around him were basically in rags and walking around in naked feet in the snow. More blood trails like the ones he’d been following to this destination. It made him weary. They’d been told things would be better at the camp. Thered be food. Thered be clothing. There’d be money. None of those things seem to true and he felt his heart sink. His contract was going to feel so much longer, now, without the presence of those things, and he worried about Lucretia.   
How could he take care of her without the money? Without property? Perhaps he was on the wrong side of this fight… he could always defect. Maybe she’d come away with him.   
Everyone around him looked ill. No one seemed in good spirits.   
After a deep exhale, he turned to Mark, laid out in the wagon. They all knew he wasn’t long for this world and all the doctor could do was try to make him comfortable.   
“I can see if theres any whiskey.” He offered, approaching them. The doctor looked around, dispair painting his face.  
“By the looks of it, I’d guess they ran out long ago, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.” Silas didn’t want to admit it, but he agreed, the men seemed war torn already and, to the best of his knowledge, many of them hadn’t seen a battle yet.   
He decided, maybe, he should check up on Lucretia on the way. It wasn’t as if Mark was going anywhere.   
It didn’t take him too long to find her. The yellow of her dress, though faded, stuck out amongst the snow and dark uniforms of the soldiers. As he approached, he felt warmth in his chest pull him forward, as if his own heart had possessed his feet to pull him forward. He wanted to hold her, it’d been far too long since he kissed her and he was simply aching to sweep her away. The weight of his smile dropping was profound as he got closer, though. Lucretias wonderful laugh had met his ears, for a moment, he felt lighter, until he saw Deg. The laughter he heard had been brought forth by something Degory had said or done. She was tending to their shoulder, he could see, their jacket was taken off and shirt sleeve pulled down, he could only guess that the cup in Degs hand contained whiskey. His feet stopped and he found himself just staring. Simply watching her tend to their friends shoulder. Silas must have stared too long, though, because he saw one of the other women walk over and whisper into Lucretias ear, seeming to prompt her to look his way. Caught and unable to save himself much embarrassment, he forced a smile and a nod, even tipped his hat, before turning tale to find whiskey elsewhere.   
Someone else had to have some.   
Frowning, now, deeply, he could feel, he began to ask around and, to his dismay, they all pointed him back toward Lucretia and Degary.   
“The doctors down that way.”  
“We don’t have any to spare, go ask the doctor.”  
And several ruder comments.   
With a deep sigh, he back tracked, trying to pull himself together enough to summon the courage to approach them.   
“Silas, I did wonder what you were up to.” Lucreita smiled.   
“Well, I was trying to find some whiskey for Mark.” A bit solemnly, she glanced at Deg, dropped her head and nodded. Apparently, Degary must have explained the outcome of the meeting that morning.   
“Here.” With great care, she placed a half full bottle in his hand. “Don’t let people see I gave you so much or tell them it was me.” He nodded.  
“How do you have all the whiskey?” Lucretia laughed and shrugged.  
“I’m not sure how, I came to ask for some for Deg and ended up with that bottle.” Silas glanced at Deg, questioningly, and they nodded.  
“You can have it.” They said. “I’ve had enough anyway and I don’t think I’m in as much need as Mark.”   
“Thank you, Sir.” He gave a slight bow to Lucretia as he excused himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME OF THIS CHAPTERS CONTAIN EDITING NOTES BECAUSE THEY ARE A WORK IN PROGRESS. As previously stated, this is a first draft. Im trying to properly build the foundation.


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